Whataburger wisdom

Lynn and I love Whataburger. I know, it’s terribly unhealthy, fattening, artery clogging, etc., etc., ad nauseam. But it’s GOOD. All my Texas friends will agree.

Saturday night, we had a date at Whataburger. It was about 8 o’clock at night, the place was empty, and the burger was perfect. The veggies were cold, the meat was hot, the bun was buttered and toasted to perfection . . . Whataburger with cheese, with mayo instead of mustard and add sliced jalapenos; I’m telling you, it’s the best thing there is. And don’t get me started on the perfection of their crispy fries and fabulous little tubs of the best ketchup God ever made.

So I’m nearing the halfway point of my cheeseburger when part of my tomato slides out and I see it . . . the tomato butt.

What do you do when life gives you a tomato butt?

Some say add more ketchup and eat it anyway.

Some say go complain to the manager.

I say laugh . . . kind of like when I found this fork (Fork in the road) in my driveway:

I think I should have a recurring section of this blog that asks the question, “What do you do when life gives you . . . ?”

Don’t you agree?

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