Monday, November 19, 2012
"There's something wrong with me."
Now I know that Mark has serious health issues and I should be kind, but how can he expect me to just let that line lie there.
"Well duh, yes. We all know that there's something wrong with you... Oh, you mean physically wrong with you."
A long icy stare followed.
"There's a lot of stuff still out in the car. I'm going to lie down."
So while Mark retired into the bedroom with a case of the vapors, I fetched all his Thanksgiving supplies from the back of the PT Cruiser.
Once again Mark has planned another outrageous Thanksgiving dinner. What had started as a small thing with just two guests has ballooned to ten guests including a lady we met at the Sidelines bar just last Friday. I think her name was Sheba. What all this means is that I will have to clean the entire house, schlep all of Mark's groceries from the car, clean up after Mark's awesome Thanksgiving dinner, and stock the bar. I am very good at stocking the bar.
One thing I have figured out while cleaning the house is that refrigerators are woefully ill-designed. As Mark was slamming the door behind him on his way to the supermarket, he had told me to "Clean out the refrigerator." Sounds simple enough until you start removing the layers of refrigerated goo. The first three inches in, everything is fresh. Move a bit further back and you start encountering cheeses that have blue spots on them, and fur bearing fruits. Seven inches further back into the depths of the refrigerator are the milk products that have turned into strange cheese like substances, and meats that have turned into rainbow colored death traps. It's a bit scary knowing that I am harboring a biohazard in my own kitchen. What I would do if I were to design a refrigerator, is to make them only four inches deep. Sure they would have to be ten feet wide, but think about it. You would never, ever, lose that restaurant leftover you so much wanted to eat the next day. Never again would you encounter a strange green creature growing out of an expired yogurt cup. Best of all Mark wouldn't be able to keep buying the same thing over and over again because he can't see that it is already in the refrigerator. One more positive thing. Chances I will get food poisoning would drop dramatically.