Somebody missed a letter. The most important letter. The entire genre of homemade soup has been changed.
The whole family and some friends were at dinner for Hallie's birthday weekend. We were on our 3rd bottle of Chianti and my daughter Sara laughed and said, "Mom. You gonna get any soup?" The soup… poor soup. It went from “homemade,” warm and comforting, to “hoemade,” which sounds like it belongs in a completely different establishment entirely. And that was enough for some mildly spicy wordplay. (There were kids around).
Seasoned with a lot of experience.
Been around the pot a few times.
Comfort food for the whole neighborhood.
Seasoned with spice and questionable decisions.
Homemade warms the heart. Hoemade warms the group chat.
And this, my friends, shows the impotence of proofreading 😊
😆😆😆
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