Thursday, October 04, 2018

Job Security

[Cautiously cracks open door, peers around]

Hello! Anyone still here?

Really? Well, just let me move these suitcases over a bit and, uh, dust off this chair, and...let's see...hang on a second while I vacuum up this spider colony on the keyboard...

So! Yes, I'm back. And I know I'm supposed to write all about the airplane ride and the trip and Susie and everything, which is probably why I haven't managed to do so yet, because OMG overwhelming...but first. FIRST, I have to tell you about last night. Because my mind works backwards, I guess.

Obligatory travel photo - Jaffa on the Mediterranean Sea

Knit Night is Wednesday evenings. And I often arrive much later than my friends because they don't have kids at home and I do and I have to cook dinner for my family before I leave the house. Because I'm a great mom like that.

Actually, I just feel guilty and I don't want Larry munching on peanuts and nothing else after a hard day at work.

But a knitting friend who shall go unnamed (but it is she of the iPad-dropping fame) said, "WHY are you cooking dinner on Wednesdays? You were gone 2 weeks. Did anyone starve? Didn't they manage? You can skip making dinner one night a week!"

So yesterday (Wednesday) rolled around and I thought, "You know, they did manage. Badly (think, yeah, peanuts), but still...and I've cooked dinners the last 3, yeah, I'll drop Rachel off at work and go straight to Knit Night. They'll be FINE."

Seriously, there was rotisserie chicken I had pulled off the bone and left in the fridge. There was a piece of leftover frittata I had whipped up on Tuesday. There were leftover boppies, from the night I had made meatloaf. There was even some apple crisp from the day before. I'm telling you, I've really been rocking this meal preparation gig lately.

All in full view in the fridge or on the counter...

And there was also bread, and cheese, and eggs. PLENTY OF REAL, EASY-TO-PREPARE FOOD. Food that Susie makes every day. But there was also, left on the stove to cool a bit before being put away, a pot full of just-made chicken stock, with the bare bones from the rotisserie chicken and the old (and now very overcooked) celery and carrots and onions still in it. "Larry will know to put it in the fridge," I thought. "I can strain it tomorrow and then make some matzo balls to go with."

So I left the house, secure in the knowledge that I had provided sustenance for my family and could hang out guilt-free with my knitting friends.

Good lord, I'm stupid.

Turns out, Larry got home and asked Susie what was for dinner. She said, "I dunno - I think Mommy made you some soup." Whereupon they both went into the kitchen and stared down at the unstrained broth with the CHICKEN CARCASS floating in it, along with the limp veggies, and decided that, yes, that was Larry's dinner.

You know, words fail me at this point. I just want to say to my knitting friend, "You were wrong. They can't manage. And it's a good thing I didn't leave a pot of wool soaking in Kool-Aid dye on that stove instead."


  1. Hilarious! And welcome back. Can't wait to read about your trip.

  2. Oh my word, that takes the cake!

  3. LOL! Figures! I too can't wait to hear all about your trip!

  4. Oh, that is FUNNY! That is just what my family might do, and then they would COMPLAIN that I left them with only scraps to eat.

    Thank you for the obligatory travel photo - it is beautiful. I am looking forward to hearing about your trip. It looks like you went to different places than we did.

    1. Have you written about your trip at all? I looked and I couldn't find anything (you were distracted by current events when you came back).

    2. My family would do the same (even though I haven't recently returned from a trip to the Holy Land).

  5. I've been checking every day so yay seeing you back! I keep frozen burritos in the downstairs chest freezer, and the minute the kids think I didn't cook they are stampeding to that dumb freezer. I like to think fresh cooked homemade is tastier, but they don't instill me with confidence. I soldier on...

  6. I laughed out loud! Of course he ate it; I swear men will eat anything. My husband eats leftovers that should have been thrown out a week ago, but I forgot.
    Welcome home!

  7. That is so funny!!!!!
    Welcome home.
    Have a cozy weekend!

  8. My family would just say oh there's no food we need to go out to eat lol.

  9. Welcome back! I do wonder how they managed while you were away. I can totally relate. Love the idea that he wouldve injested yarn!! Too funny.

  10. I hope you called for pizza!

  11. The narrator shifts from first person to third person omniscient for the penultimate paragraph. Interesting technique.
    And you de-boned a chicken and prepared mirrepoix (prep work) and then boiled it for an extended period while monitoring it (so you wouldn't burn down the house), but you did not plan ahead enough to throw some ingredients (possibly including part of the mirrepoix) in the oven for dinner. Where did your cafeteria experience evaporate to?
    And the poor spouse arrives home to find his still warm dinner on the stove (but without an omniscient narrator to tell him what to do), and is scorned for eating it. What price would he pay for ordering pizza instead of enjoying his appointed repast?
    The counterpoint to the omniscient narrator is the unlimited texting plan: "Going to Knit Night. Plenty of leftovers in the fridge for your dinner. Please put the broth that I left on the stove to cool in the fridge before you go upstairs.I'll make matzohs with it tomorrow. [picture of cooling broth]"

    1. But see, I had enough faith in him to believe that he would know what to do with that pot of broth I left cooling on the stove! Don't I get points for that?

    2. When we primates are faced with a situation that we have to interpret and react to, we draw on our experience and try to discern a pattern. When we react outlandishly wrong, the result is comedic, or if we are characters on a tv show,the result is sitcom.
      So the real questions are:
      1. Why do characters in a sitcom (husbands in a family) fail to recognize plot elements from earlier sitcoms and react in a manner that will minimize comic embarrassment? and
      2. Do you have a wacky neighbor?