There is soup in a box in my living room

...from my sister.

Oh wait, that must sound odd. Let me explain.

My birthday is on Sunday, and I received a package from her this week.

I haven't opened it, but the customs label requires a declaration of contents, and, being the law-abiding citizen that she is, I now know that there are canned goods inside.

And it would only make sense to pay to ship a heavy, quickly consumed, canned good to a brother in Germany for his birthday if it were, indeed, soup.

See? Now it's not as strange as it sounds, right?

Well, actually, I imagine it still is. Let me spell it out...


Now do you get it?

Of course not. Because what you don't know is that I developed a slightly disturbing obsession with this particular soup when I was (family, help out here) six or so?

And it is not available in Germany, by hook, crook, or expensive department store food gallery.

So, my plan on Saturday (every store is closed on Sunday here, remember) is to go to that expensive department store food gallery to buy authentic sharp Wisconnsin cheddar cheese and tortillas (good for soaking up the last bits from the bowl) and celebrate in style.

And sis, if it isn't B&B, I'll still love you...

Maybe...

As long as it's not canned tofu.

P.S. I'm still figuring out Blogger and apparently just obliviated my post from Florence in December. I will recover, but grrrrrrr.........