So my sweet lil’ mom has been in town for the past few days. It has been quite lovely. When she first arrived I shared with her my dream of eventually owning a crepe cafe. Our own cafe to meet with clients in? Are you kidding me… it’d be amazing.
Crepes are ridiculous. And the best ones we’ve ever had are in Vancouver. Side note.
So one day while she (my mother) was wandering around Seattle, she decided to get us a few supplies so we can start the Harms’ crepe cafe in our own kitchen. So tonight we decided to fire up the stove and get to cookin’.
Buuuuuut….. before the party got rollin’, I made a little trip to the super market. Fred Meyer to be exact. And while literally fumbling around in the whip cream cooler, I dropped a can of said whipped cream and suddenly found myself covered, head to toe, in artificial heavy whipped cream.
One might immediately be frustrated by such an event, especially after having a bit of a hellish afternoon. However, I happened to be carrying in my wallet my official Ryler Society membership card. As the frustration began to seep to the surface, I was reminded of my calling as a member of the Ryler Society. According to my official membership kit:
“Say some bird poop hits you on your way to lunch… do you laugh at that? Or how about when the sink splashes you in the crotch just enough to make it look like you’ve peed yourself — or maybe you did a little bit. People are so quick to get upset. And that crap should be funny. We aren’t alive long enough to miss these things; to be embarrassed, fearful, or angry. And it’s not worth it anyway.”
And the fact that I literally EXPLODED a can of whipped cream all over myself in the middle of the grocery story, is in fact, hilarious. And should be. Life is too short to be angry at such beautiful moments.
We ended up making some incredible crepes. Phenomenal actually. With no further adue…
We started the night with a spinach, mushroom, bacon + cheese combo and finished with the above nutella, strawberry + banana combo.
Mmmmm. Lovely indeed. Hope you had a happy Sunday.
Even if you did find yourself near the dairy cooler completely covered in whipped cream.