Well, I didn't want any of your stinkin' soup anyway.

I'm not a big Seinfeld fan. I mean, the show is okay, but I just don't understand what made it such a big hit for so long. The plot is usually depressing and the actors/actresses aren't attractive. You all can go off on a diatribe about how I'm really missing the true humor in the show -- but you will be wasting your breath. I'm not a fan, and I don't think I ever will be. (Shout-out to my brother who shares similar feelings to mine.)

I do know the "No soup for you!" reference, however.

So, Bert made up a batch of Mulligatawny soup. It was delicious. We all sat around, over-indulging and rubbing our tummies. It was that good. And I felt like he kept setting up lines for me to say -- but I had no idea what he was talking about. Finally, while driving home from my parents' house, he said (loudly), "No soup for you!" and then proceeded to explain how the line and soup had a Seinfeld connection.

Fast forward two days later, and Bert was trying to convince me that he needed to make another batch of Mulligatawny, but this time using a cheap rotisserie chicken from the store to make the homemade broth. I immediately rendered my protests, as I am not a fan of chicken fat, gristle, bones, cartilage, sinew, etc., etc., etc. It makes me lose my lunch. Or dinner. Or breakfast.

He assured me there would be nothing of the sort in this soup. He'd get all of the fat, gristle, bones, cartilage, sinew, etc., etc., etc. out of the broth.

I agreed. He went to the store. He got the chicken. He made the broth. He made the soup. He dished me up a bowl. Three bites in, and I find what resembles a decent-sized chicken bone, complete with its cartilage-y joints, in my mouth. WHA?!?!? How the heck did that get there?

And it made me with that my husband would have said, "No soup for you!" a little sooner.