I'll count it toward my lunch break, call it a vegetable and move on. But as I so often like to do, I first want to shirk the responsibility and point an accusatory finger for the portion of the blame that I can not claim personally. I was in Brooklyn for the second time in a week last night engaging in more merriment. And while there was spiked cider to be had, the culprit that kept me there late in to the evening on this occasion was good old fashion squeaky clean fun brought to the child in all of us by Trader Joes!
Seriously friends, $7 buys you a night worth of memory making. Without a doubt the best bargain of the season.