Thursday, June 20, 2013

Objects In Kitchen Are Realer Than They Appear

I don't even blink an eye anymore when objects appear where they previously were not. Don't think I'm talking about the unexplained happenings in the Mansion. These have an explanation. It is spelled F-A-R-M-E-R  H.

Since Sunday, there has been a black metal roasting pan on my stove. You know, the black with white spots kind of roasting pan. The small version. It first appeared on my kitchen counter, in the space uncluttered by items that really don't need to be in a kitchen, like an orange plastic Halloween cup of change, a bottle of cough medicine, automobile insurance cards, and a wooden bill-and-letter holder suitable for wall-mounting. I moved it from the counter to the stove. It's not like I'm gonna need to use that area, you know. I was playing the Farmer H game. It's not mine. So I'm not responsible for it.

That game has gotten kind of old. I know where MY small roasting pan is. It's down in the corner cabinet, beside Frig, on the top shelf, nestled inside my big black metal roasting pan. Or is it? After so many days of seeing that pan on the back burner, I started to doubt myself. I know I didn't use that pan. But maybe Farmer H used it. Maybe he gathered too many chicken eggs, and needed something bigger than the red-and-green Easter basket. Maybe he drained the oil out of one of his vehicles. Maybe he snuck it down to his cabin to cook some auction meat.

Since I already had a sink full of water, having washed the silverware that people around here think grows on trees, I put Li'l Roasty II in the suds. As I scrubbed him, I felt a scar on his bottom. One just like the scar on Li'l Roasty I in the cabinet. Hmm...wouldn't that be a joke on me if all this time I was resenting Farmer H for buying me a roasting pan at the auction, it had merely been my own roasting pan that he had borrowed and not put away?

You can't blame me for assuming. Farmer H IS the kind of guy who would spend a dollar to get his wife an extra roaster. After all, he conscientiously saves all the little brown banty eggs for my mom because she loves them. Even though she doesn't. He used to buy her cake plates, and was somewhat hurt when she told him, after the 17th one, "I don't have any more room for cake plates." He buys old cameras for the #1 son, and swords for The Pony. And I have a standing offer for auction meat. So my theory was really not so far-fetched.

I put Li'l Roasty II in the draining sink. Then I went to look under the cabinet for Li'l Roasty I. AND THERE HE WAS! Snug as a bug in a big black roasting pan.

Funny how both pans have that same chunk of black-spotted coating missing from the same area. I guess every one of us DOES have a double.

2 comments:

Sioux said...

HM--I hope to high heavens that I don't have a double. I don't think the world could handle it...

Hillbilly Mom said...

Yikes! Now that you made me think about it, I might have nightmares!