Another Kitchen Horror Story, Courtesy Of Farmer H

You're not eating, are you? If so, I suggest you finish, and return later after your vittles are safely digested. Once again, Farmer H has made his mark on Mrs. HM's kitchen. He wasn't showy about it. Thought he was getting away with something. Or not. It's quite likely that Farmer H saw nothing wrong with his actions. And possibly thought he was doing me a FAVOR! I hate it when he does that.

Anyhoo... we're still having Easter ham for supper. So Farmer H comes in and makes his own sandwich. The other leftovers are gone, except a couple of deviled eggs that are going to the dogs. They're past their prime.

Anyhoo... I reminded Farmer H that there was still French Onion Dip to go with his Ruffles potato chips. 

"You might have to pour out a little liquid. It gets some on top when it sits in the fridge."

I was busy scratching at the kitchen table. Out of the corner of my eye, I sensed Farmer H taking the lid off the dip container. Then something seemed odd. I turned to see him with his nose down in the container!

"What are you doing?"

"Smelling it to see if it's good. It smelled a little funny."

"It's FRENCH ONION DIP! It has a smell. The date is good until May 14."

Farmer H started looking at the container for a date. I told him it was on the lid. He looked at the top of the lid. So I had to tell him (not too cheerfully, as he was taking up my scratching time) that the date is along the rim of the lid. He finally saw it, and decided the dip was safe to eat. Heh, heh. From the man who eats dog bread, and lunch meat two weeks open in FRIG II.

I heard Farmer H digging into the chip bag and dumping a handful on his plate. Then my peripheral vision noticed him dipping out dip. Wait a minute! My brain realized that I had not laid out a spoon, and Farmer H had not stepped over to the silverware drawer. I turned to see Farmer H

DIGGING IN THE DIP CONTAINER WITH A CHIP!

Which promptly broke off. So Farmer H dug that part out after a big scoop on the large half of the chip. And then licked his fingers and put the lid back on.

"WHAT are you doing?"

"Getting my dip."

"You have just ruined the whole container! It's contaminated now. It will never last."

"It's fine. I always dip it with a chip."

"Your hand, and crumbs from that chip, have now infiltrated the dip!"

I guess that's what happens when I'm not around. I know that when I lay out a spoon, it always gets dirty. So Farmer H was just too lazy to take two steps for a spoon. Not sure if I want any of that dip. At least I witnessed Farmer H wash his hands in the kitchen sink when he came in from mowing the yard. But he didn't scrub them like a surgeon.