Today in random therapy conversations:
I was talking about a gross pasta sauce my mom had at the beach one year that I didn't want to eat, and she was complaining that I didn't eat enough (was related to talking about dealing with my mom, since we're going to the beach with them later this summer). I said it was from Francesco Rinaldi.
T: "What's Francesco Rinaldi?"
Me: "A really bad tomato sauce, like Ragu, but not as good."
T: "Like Prego?"
Me: "Worse than that."
T: "There's something worse than Prego?"
Me: "You wouldn't think so, but there is."