Mariah and I walked into the caf and read the sign to see what was being served for dinner.
"YES! Flautas!"
We walk in and confidently head over to the Mexican food station.
"Those are not flautas," Mariah disappointedly pointed out as we stared in sadness at the taquitos.
Seriously, I have no ounce of anything hispanic in me and I know the difference between flautas and taquitos. Apparently the caf does not.
(I worked really hard on the title of this blog. Appreciate it. I was going for a "Sleepless in Seattle" theme. Nothing synonymous with "sad" started with the letter R to go with Riverside. I figured "cottage" will do. After all, I do live in one.)
9 Responses to “ Crestfallen in the Cottage. ”
THAT IS A TRAVESTY!!!!!
oh you are amazing faith!! let's always use big words because they are enlivening!! =]
Your blog was...get ready...phantasmagorical!!!
before I even read the end of your blog about your title, i thought, "wow, that is a nice title liz!"
impressive...
well, i am honored. thank you, kindly.
Yes, your title was very meritorious. But, I have no idea what a flauta is...
no idea what a flauta is?! you must be living a very bereft life!
Yeah, that is probably due to my caucasian-ness lol
hahaha! well, to enlighten you, it's like a taquito, but it's a flour tortilla instead of corn. and it is soft, not hard. and usually chicken. and tastes WAAAAAAAY better than a taquito.