Crunchilada

Tonight for dinner, we had leftovers, including the enchiladas that Rita made for the Superbowl. These are the same enchiladas that caused Trevor to proclaim, "YUK!"

I had one of the enchiladas, and it was fine - until what was about to become my last bite. I chewed something quite crunchy - too hard to bite. I thought, "Wow - the edge of the tortilla sure got burned." But, when I spit out the crunchy badness, it was no tortilla.

It was black and kinda shaped like the end of a pen.

The second piece of firmness that I removed from my mouth was the same color, but smaller.

I concluded that the pieces were either part of a plastic utensil, an old cigarette butt, or a charred finger.

Done with enchiladas.