This morning I said to Hannah,
Let’s eat from the freezer tonight.
That means we eat something already cooked that has been put by for lazy nights. I fancied a portion of Hannah’s Thai curry and had been dreaming of it all day.
But when I got home Bert had beaten me to it and was heating up a big plateful of mince and onions, cabbage and spuds. Not really what I wanted but there was too much for one and I decided to go for it.
Note to self – freeze everything in single portions from now on for if Bert fancies something he defrosts it whether it’s enough for one or for twenty-one.
Bert had put it in the oven. He thinks microwaves are evil but it was drying up and I persuaded him to transfer it to the zapping machine.
Eventually we sit down to eat. Bert’s has no care for his arteries and thinks that all food should be liberally salted. See people who smoke? No taste buds. Sadly, in his haste to get the salt out of the cellar, he banged it far too hard and half its contents landed over his food. Naturally this was the fault of the equipment, not the handler and he swore at it horribly. I advised him to scrape it off and carry on eating which he did.
Several mouthfuls later he started cussing at his dinner again.
Damn and bloody blast! Am I not meant to eat this?
What’s wrong now?
There’s a slug in my cabbage. I’m totally scunnered. I can’t finish it after seeing that.
Sure why not? That slug has been boiled, deep-frozen, roasted, microwaved and clarried in salt. It’s as dead as Hector and clean as a whistle. It will do you not one bit of harm.
He still didn’t eat it.