You don't want to serve left over homemade lasagna, but you're willing to serve carry out? Since you have to transfer the carry out food to your own dishes to complete your ruse, why not just transfer the lasagna into a smaller pan and pretend you just made it? Toby, your fury has affected your reason. You are furious, right? I mean, that expression your face is not because of your little horse is it? Because the horse is fine.
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All of this is ridiculous. She has a ton of quick-cook options, even if she has to make a run to the store, and this is taking into consideration that the leftover pasta isn't enough for three.
Even if she served takeout, she doesn't have to lie. She can make a dessert and a salad of her own and tell the truth: her husband didn't give her much notice.
All that aside, her face is hilarious. The level of disgust is worthy of a DefCon designation.
It didn't take much searching in the archives to see that Toby is ambidextrous. I recall an old belief that ambidextrous people are untrustworthy and shifty, and Toby's ease in lying and laying responsibility for the lie on Ian (scheming, insensitive, and boorish though he be) fits right into this stereotype. The unvarnished truth about the Camerons is being revealed!
What's so bad about day-old lasagna? Lasagna is often better the second day. Serve it with a fresh, crisp salad, crusty Italian rolls, gelato, and a good bottle of red wine, and it will be a gazillion times better than the dreck I expect Mary to rustle up.
I love Toby's and Ian's expressions today. Bravo, Uncle Joe! Incidentally, Toby seems to have a hidden talent--those little gray animals are Alive! They keep changing their positions on the shelf, and some are showing a lively interest in the conversation.
That little horse is about to be stabbed repeatedly in the heart with an Exacto-o knife - Toby's boiling rage may take out the whole herd of little animals. (Why is the giraffe growing rapidly?).
I'm not so sure the horse is fine. The death rays shooting out of Toby's eyes are about to reduce it to rubble.
Chill out Toby. Can anger management classes be far behind?
If I could, I would only serve leftover lasagna to influential business associates. The supreme deliciousness of reheated lasagna is one of the more respectable reasons I won't move out of my parents' house.
It would be a lot more fun to see her trying to pass off Domino's as homemade. "Yes, I've been told my pizza is as good as takeout!"
I suggested aloud that they could go to the Bum Boat, and my husband said it wouldn't make a good impression to go to a place named after a rear end. Go more upscale, perhaps to the Derriere Dinghy.
Toby must be using a new=fangled "smell-o-phone" - she obviously just got a whiff of something really bad.
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