So, it’s clear that my mom loves Emily more. I get it. She’s new to my mom, she laughs at all the stories that I’ve already heard hundreds of times and asks my mom all kinds of questions about herself. But does my mom really have to share her secret recipe with her, not me?

[Just kidding, I’ve made the sauce before…I don’t need another tutorial.]

Delegating meatball-making duty to Emily.

Apologies to my vegetarian readers.

Apologies again to the vegetarians out there. While the sauce simmered, we headed to Target (suburb love!) and then stopped at the Market Basket…for the second time today…on the way back. I usually get the health smart sandwich, but I was looking at the sandwich menu over Emily’s shoulder and noticed the California club—turkey, bacon, avocado and pesto. At the MB, they give you the option of chips, pretzels, a banana  or apple on the side. I asked for an apple, and the guy gave me a really weird look. Jerk. I only ate half of the sandwich because it was so filling.

And because there was some homemade cake to enjoy.

At 21, it was driving to the West Virginia border from D.C. to see the “Wild, Wonderful West Virginia” sign, because we thought it was funny.

At 27, spontaneity is heading up to Woodbury Commons (NYC friends: it is worth the bus ride or Zipcar for the deals you’ll get. Also, THERE IS A LULULEMON OUTLET.) late on a Saturday afternoon with Emily and then heading to my parents’ house for a slumber party and showing Emily where I’m from. 

Our original plan was actually to do the outlets today and then come back and have my mom’s spaghetti, but we got back here around 9:00 last night, so she just made us some appetizers, like the above tequila lime wings.

My mom’s making the sauce now to send back with us into the city, and she’s giving Emily a lesson on how to make it. That means Emily’s in the inner circle; my mom doesn’t share this recipe with just anyone.

This morning, my mom made us breakfast: omelettes with bruschetta and a little mozarella and whole wheat toast.