Have you ever had heart set on eating something in particular, only to discover that someone else in the house got to it first? With five other people in the household, that is the story of my life. No matter how well I think I have hidden my favorite snacks, someone finds them and finishes them off.
I had a really late lunch today, so I didn’t bother to eat dinner. Of course by the time the kids were in bed, I was pretty hungry. I went into the poured myself a bowl of Resee’s Puffs, only to discover that we were completely out of almond milk. I know what you are thinking: sugary cereal and almond milk are complete contradictions of one another. Well my lactose intolerant digestive system will tell you that they go together perfectly well. But what was I supposed to eat now? Determined not to dirty a single pot or pan, I scoured the pantry for alternatives.
A bag of veggie straws sat unopened on the top shelf. And they will remain unopened. My husband insists on buying them every time he sets foot in Whole Foods, but no one in the house likes them. Not even he does, as is apparent by the unopened bag, I wasn’t quite desperate enough to go that route. Something else did catch my eye though.
My dad came to Orlando for a visit last week and stayed at one of the resorts here. He loves the fact that he has a full sized kitchen that he can stock with all his strange food desires. In addition to many cloves of garlic, he bought so many cans of sardines that I thought a hurricane warning had been issued. He didn’t manage to eat them all, and thought it might look suspicious if he tried boarding the plane with them when he headed back home. So they came to my house.
Tonight, I opened up a can of those sardines. The wrapping around the can suggested eating them on top of cheese toast, but I was not about to sully a good piece of cheese toast that way. I loaded them onto a plate along with a handful of saltine crackers (also courtesy of Dad) and sat at the dining room table. Now I have had sardines before, but I don’t recall them tasting quite so awful. It didn’t help that my dad is fond of the Dill Mustard-flavored variety. After choking down a few bites, I prayed that the horrid smell would wake Jelly Bean from his slumber so that he could rescue me from my predicament. I started to get worried after sitting there for about five minutes, and went to check on him. He was asleep at the foot of Little Linebacker’s bed, completely oblivious to my dilemma. Rolling my eyes, I trudged back to the dining room table and flopped down in the chair. Trying not to breathe through my nose, I finished the sardines.
As I stood at the sink washing my plate, Jelly Bean trotted in expectantly. Thanks for nothing, silly cat. The dirty deed has already been done. But at least I know the rest of those cans of sardines won’t go to waste.