It was noon and Mitch and I had done a number of jobs around the farm, leading to a healthy appetite. I had brought in leftover chicken fettucine and placed the meal in the refrigerator in the Tack Room, since it was so cold out that my normal storage outside the shop garage door may have frozen it. I went to retrieve it for lunch…except when I opened the door and looked for the Cool Whip container I’d brought it in, discovered it was MIA. I had a pretty good idea what had happened and walked into the Program Office where several ladies were hard at work.
“So…someone did a very nice job cleaning out the refrigerator. Does anyone know who that was and where my lunch is?” I asked.
All swiveled and pointed…to Melissa…who was looking down sheepishly, studying something on her boots.
“Um…the Cool Whip container?”
“Yup,” I replied.
“I…um…opened that up and it looked all glumpy and congealed and, I thought, moldy, and so I threw it away,” she said.
A ringing endorsement of my cooking skills, I thought.
“Let’s all go to John’s house for dinner tonight…or maybe not, he’ll likely kill us with the way he cooks!” I said, receiving hoots from all the ladies in the room. Melissa was mortified and turning red. It was time to back off.
“I’m kidding, Melissa. No big deal! It’s got tons of butter and cheese in it and does look rather disgusting when it’s cold, but great after I zap it in the microwave. Besides, I know you think I’m too fat and could use to lose a little…thanks for that and for helping,” I said.
She offered me some of her lunch, but I told her it was nothing and walked away. Hungry.
With the family coming for dinner, I had little time for a workout and went home to get the house ready and pull out…and qualify…all food items I thought might still be edible. I had plenty to feed the group with more leftovers for the rest of the week’s lunches provided I could keep Melissa from tossing it before I could eat it.
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