A Dash of Thyme

I'm cute. Have I mentioned that before? Sometimes I do things and instead of saying how foolish I am, I state that I'm cute. Like remarking how dull the stars seem then realize I'm not wearing my glasses. Cute.

Recently, I was trying out a new recipe. I chopped up the vegetables, the ham, grated the cheese. The instructions were to put the ingredients in a bowl. 

I put in the vegetables, ham, cheese, liquid, and started to measure and put in seasonings. I got to the thyme, measured it out and dumped it in the bowl... of freshly grated cheese. 

Sigh. What can I say? I'm cute. 

I decided the dish was going to be a little more cheesy than originally planned. I scooped out as much of the thyme as I could with cheese around it and decided that the rest of the cheese wouldn't hurt with a little bit of thyme in it. Jr. made quesadillas with it.

Jeremy even told me not to worry too much. "You've still got thyme."