This morning before I headed to Provo TRQ asked if I would stop at Williams Sonoma and buy some wassail. Two boxes of it.
I wasn't sure what she and the Coach wanted with wassail (two boxes of it) but okay fine. They're entitled to all the wassail they want is what I say. So I stopped at W-Son at Trolley Square on my way out of town and asked the clerk to guide me to the Wassail Promised Land.
She look at me and said, "Um. We don't sell wassail."
ME: Um. Yes, you do. TRQ said she bought some here.
CLERK: Um. Okay. We do sell mulling spices. Over there.
So I checked out the mulling spices, which technically came in bottles, not in boxes, and I thought, "Maybe TRQ wants this" because it is true that sometimes her directions are on the vague side--like the way she calls "Jo-Jo's" from Trader Joe's "dingle-dangles," which is a MUCH better name anyway, I think you'll agree.
Still. When I looked at the bottles of mulling spices I thought what the hell?
So then I pulled the wassail card again with the clerk who was friendly but firm. NO WASSAIL AT THE INN.
Finally I pulled out my phone and called TRQ who assured me she bought wassail at W-Son and then spelled out the brand name for me, which I spelled out for the clerk who said OH! WAFFLE! YES! WE HAVE BOXES OF WAFFLE MIX.
Ken Cannon says I'm going deaf. I think Ken Cannon might be right.