You know how sometimes you prepare a fresh, nutritious meal for your loved one and they praise its beauty and flavor and you feel really warm and cozy inside, but then your loved one is all like, "You know what would make this even better?" and he goes into the fridge and gets RANCH?
That doesn't bother me.
Not even a little bit.
Actually children, two months ago I would have been right there with him, slathering the ranch all over my beans and tomatoes. But that was before I discovered my dairy allergy. And now I am barred forever from the sweet manna of Ranchy delight, just as a Catholic who has failed to attend church on a Day of Holy Obligation, such as August 15, day of the Assumption* is barred from the sweet manna of Heaven. Or something like that.
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