Last night after dinner, I had to complete the mundane task of emptying and sorting three bagfuls of groceries. Bread, eggs, broccoli, mushrooms, milk, tilapia fillets, et cetera. Usman and I were talking about a few things that we should institute into our daily lives - important things, you know - such as exercise, which is completely absent from my routine. I think it was a subtle hint given by my very tactful husband. Jahan was playing with the grocery bags as I was putting away the items.
When everything was sorted, I opened the pack of Tilapia and soaked four fillets in vinegar (doing this for 10-15 minutes prior to seasoning gets rid of the fishy smell), and started making a small salad. When I was almost done, Jahan started to complain with her arms up in the air and her face set in an irresistible pout: it was time for bed.
I quickly seasoned the fish and started to look for the pack of butter we had just bought to start cooking. I scanned the fridge from top to bottom. No butter. Weird, I remembered holding it with the eggs just a few minutes ago. I searched the fridge as fast as I could while being thorough, checking off each shelf and drawer one at a time. No butter.
"Am I losing my mind?" I mused.
"Probably," said Usman without looking up from his game and without asking me why I said that. "What's going on?"
I explained. We started to look for the butter together while a very angry 15-month-old kept tugging at our clothes. We searched everyhwere, and I mean everywhere. Under the sofas, in the toy box, in the kitchen cabinets, in the trash, under the beds, in the bathroom, in the closets, on the stairs, in the pantry. NO BUTTER!
We deduced that Jahan had stashed it somewhere in the few minutes it took me to put everything away.
All night I had dreams about a mound of golden yellow butter melting, melting, melting, flowing river-like, snaking its way into my clothes, dishes, carpet, bedspread...
I have to find this butter!
When everything was sorted, I opened the pack of Tilapia and soaked four fillets in vinegar (doing this for 10-15 minutes prior to seasoning gets rid of the fishy smell), and started making a small salad. When I was almost done, Jahan started to complain with her arms up in the air and her face set in an irresistible pout: it was time for bed.
I quickly seasoned the fish and started to look for the pack of butter we had just bought to start cooking. I scanned the fridge from top to bottom. No butter. Weird, I remembered holding it with the eggs just a few minutes ago. I searched the fridge as fast as I could while being thorough, checking off each shelf and drawer one at a time. No butter.
"Am I losing my mind?" I mused.
"Probably," said Usman without looking up from his game and without asking me why I said that. "What's going on?"
I explained. We started to look for the butter together while a very angry 15-month-old kept tugging at our clothes. We searched everyhwere, and I mean everywhere. Under the sofas, in the toy box, in the kitchen cabinets, in the trash, under the beds, in the bathroom, in the closets, on the stairs, in the pantry. NO BUTTER!
We deduced that Jahan had stashed it somewhere in the few minutes it took me to put everything away.
All night I had dreams about a mound of golden yellow butter melting, melting, melting, flowing river-like, snaking its way into my clothes, dishes, carpet, bedspread...
I have to find this butter!