The Slawmaster

Time to get back on track and start singing the praises of dishing out more insults about Farmer H!

Have I mentioned how hard it is to feed him? I'm pretty sure I have. That man will never make a decision. But I DID get him pinned down to one of three choices I gave him several nights ago. Farmer H decided on shrimp, curly fries, and slaw.

Let the record show that it's not like a healthy meal. No siree, Bob! Not for Farmer H. The original plan was for a big salad, with cubes of chicken breast, but he didn't seem too keen on that, once time to make it rolled around, and I said I was going to prepare it. Farmer H preferred frozen breaded shrimp, frozen fries like the curly seasoned fries they have at Hardees, and slaw.

The night before, I'd had slaw with my meal of fried chicken, but Farmer H had wanted chili dogs. So...after scooping out my slaw, with just a tiny bit remaining, and seeing that the date expired that very night, I decided that it was done.

I didn't throw away the plastic container, because they are very lightweight, with a good lid, and are great for shipping Chex Mix to The Pony in a care package. It's our Hillbilly Tupperware. I didn't want to walk around the counter and scrape out the remaining slaw off the back porch like I usually do. It was dark already. Farmer H was at the auction. I decided to put it back in FRIG II, on top of the new container of slaw that I'd bought that day, and dump it the next day. So it wasn't sitting on the counter getting smelly at room temperature.

Anyhoo...here it was, near time for Farmer H to leave for his auction. I had his shrimp and curly fries done on time. I called him to the kitchen to fill his plate. I thought I'd set out everything he'd need. I knew he'd go back to the La-Z-Boy with his plate. I'd set out the cocktail sauce for the shrimp, and the ketchup bottle for the fries, and a plate, and a roll, and butter. I guess I forgot the slaw.

Next thing you know, I'm sitting on the short couch, making conversation with Farmer H for a few minutes as he ate. The clock was ticking. He finished and set his plate aside. I knew he was getting ready to leave. I went into the kitchen to prepare my own food, the leftover chicken. And slaw. I opened up FRIG II and saw that the slaw was unopened.

WAIT A MINUTE!

"Oh. I guess I forgot to set out the slaw."

"That's okay. I got some."

"Wait. Where did you get your slaw? It's not open."

"There was an open one in there."

"NO! That was expired! You weren't supposed to use that! I was saving it for the container. I didn't scrape it out yet. I put it in there so it didn't get hot. You should have reminded me about setting out your slaw."

"It tasted okay."

"Well, it tasted okay to me last night, too. On the night before it expired."

Sweet Gummi Mary! You'd think that man could read an expiration date every now and then! Especially when the open item is sitting on top of a brand new identical unopened item.

Farmer H is like a one-man locust cloud. At least where expired foods are concerned.