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I’m going to have to sleep with one eye open for the next few days. Today was supposed to be the day that Lola answers those burning questions her readers send to her. Unfortunately for the bulldog, I’ve got the thumbs to type with and I needed to say something important today.

Lola is going to punish me when I least expect it.

Right now though, I’ve got bigger problems. I woke up this morning and did a little happy dance that it was Taco Tuesday. For those of you who have been living under a rock, while you can physically eat tacos on any day of the week, tacos taste exponentially better on a Tuesday.

It completely defies logic.

The shell is crunchier. The sour cream is creamier. The cheese is cheesier. The meat, well it’s meatier on Tuesdays. Even the lettuce and tomatoes taste like they are positively bad for your health, because nothing this mouth-wateringly delicious can possibly be good for you!

So, as my belly plotted its lunchtime escape just after waking for the day, my brain was tickling me with a feather. I couldn’t quite grasp what needed to be thought of. I looked around the room, befuddled. Lola was staring at me, trying to decide if today was the day I had an aneurism – leaving her to eat all the tacos.

Then it hit me like a lightning bolt. Monday was a holiday. I held up my fingers and began counting days off.

It was Wednesday.

"Taco Tuesday The shell is crunchier. The sour cream is creamier. The cheese is cheesier. The meat is meatier. Even the lettuce and tomatoes taste tastier!"

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