Whenever I go to the grocery store, I always buy certain things. Zach and I go through some staples at an alarming rate, so I always put them on my list, regardless of whether or not I’ve checked the cupboards. Last week, I discovered two bottles of vanilla squirreled away in the back shelf, in addition to the half-empty bottle I already had. Three bottles of vanilla! How silly of me!
As is my habit, yesterday while grocery shopping I bought a pound of butter (in addition to about thirty pounds of other food which I carried in my backpack from Aldi to my house). What I didn’t notice was that when I threw it in the left-hand corner of the top shelf, behind the milk, it was joining a breeding ground. Later last night, when I was rearranging the refrigerator, Zach asked, “Why did you tell me to buy butter the other day?”
I shrugged. “We go through butter really fast,” I said.
Zach stared hard into the back left-hand corner. Then he began pulling out packets of butter. More and more and more of them.
We ended up with this:
We had six pounds of butter in the fridge.
(And that’s not even counting the half-pound of clarified butter in the cupboard.)
We fell on the floor, we were laughing so hard. And Zach said, “You need to write a blog about this.”
“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I do.”