As of yesterday, I have given up one of my guiltiest pleasures: eating at Cracker Barrel.

I know, I know, there’s a million reasons not to eat there — that’s why it was a secret, guilty pleasure, known only to a few trusted friends.

Yesterday, we drove to the outlet malls far away, to get Noah some shoes, pjs, and a few more shirts now that he is officially out of all his 12 month clothes and 18 month shirts that don’t have button or snap necklines.

Unfortunately, when a toddler doesn’t want to eat in a restaurant, the REALLY let you know. And he did not. So rather than torture the people around us (for longer) we canceled our order and asked for 2 orders of their hashbrown casserole & 4 biscuits to go.

The casserole was just as delicious at home. The biscuits, well one of them, held an unpleasant surprise:

See that strangely regular curved thing in the left half of the biscuit? Yeah, I don’t know what it is either, but it’s plastic. It looks kinda like the thing you pull off the top of a gallon of milk.

Didn’t eat it, didn’t eat the biscuit…kinda nauseated that we found it after eating the hash brown casserole and the other 3 biscuits.