WWYMD! WWYMD!

CG asked me if I could come look at these week old moldy raspberries and pick out any salvageable ones last night. He was making a chocolate linguine with raspberry sauce. Pasta yum! Moldy raspberries not!

I declined to come look under the auspices that the delicate nature of raspberries is like cheese. If one is moldy, it's all moldy. When in doubt, throw it out is my motto. My stomach felt a shitcidence brewing on the horizon and made a weak gurgle. CG's thrifty and titanium-lined Polish stomach family background wasn't buying my advice though.

Finally, I came up with a rule of thumb. I yelled from the family room, "WWYMD! WWYMD!"

He looked at me questioningly. "What Would Your Mom Do?" I yelled. "Figure that out and whatever it is, DO the OPPOSITE."

The raspberries didn't make an appearance in the dish. Whew! Shitcidence averted.

'lisciously scribed by Scout's Honor @ 9:13 AM