In the Wild

I’m not saying if you image that mustard being mayo that my fridge looked like this, but…truth is truth…

My kids are great at finding things.  They really are.  Especially Jakob.  He never comes to me and says “Dad, I can’t find X.  Dad.”  “X” being whatever he’s missing at the moment.  Book, toy, random Lego piece, shoe, homework.  He never just stands in the middle of the room and says anything like that.  Never.  And whatever the item he’s looking for is never 9 times out of 10 within a foot of his vision.  Never.

I hope you didn’t believe all that shit.  I was being sarcastic.

My kids are the worst at looking for missing items.  Especially Jakob.  I could write a book on the things this kid “loses”, how well he looks for them, and how they always end up being within a hand’s reach from wherever he’s standing.  I’ll spare you those stories.  For now.

But, I won’t spare you from Sarah’s troubles locating condiments in the fridge.  One evening after dinner, she’s got the fridge door wide open.  We’ve got one of those fridge on the bottom/freezer on the top deals, without a water dispenser.  Which I totally hate being without.  If the big guy upstairs didn’t want me to have my water dispensed from my fridge, he wouldn’t have had the dude that invented water dispensing fridges inventing water dispensing fridges!  “Dad, I can’t find the mayonnaise.  Dad.”  She called out holding the fridge door.

“It’s in there, Sarah.”  I replied getting the other kids’ lunches ready for school the next day.

She continued to stand there, looking.  Not moving herself or anything in the fridge around.  “We don’t have any more, Dad.” Sarah said.

“It’s in there.”

“No.  It’s definitely not.  I used the rest of it the other day.”

“Yes, there is.  I bought more. You just gotta move shit around.”

“I’m telling you, Dad.  We ran out.”  She replied, still standing in front of the door.  Still wide open.  Still not moving anything in the fridge around.

I sighed heavily.  Here’s the point in the story where I gotta stop and tell you a little about me.  There’s a time of night, when I get really cranky.  It’s usually between 7:30 and 8:30.  That’s my witching hour.  If you ask the kids, though, they’d probably say my witching hour was between 5:30 pm until 5:29 pm the next day.  Semantics, if you ask me.  Needless to say, this exchange between Sarah and myself was taking place during my witching hour and also needless to say, I was a bit cranky.  “I just bought some Sarah.”

“Yea…like two months ago.”  She said in her authoritative 14 year old way.  “We’re out.”

I drew a deep breath and rolled my eyes.  “Let me see.”  I said, pushing her aside.  I peered into the fridge, which probably had been wide open for at least 30 minutes.  Now, granted, sometimes there’s more than a few containers in the fridge.  Especially if it’s coming toward the end of the week and we need to have a Player’s Choice night.  But, still.  Sometimes you gotta move things around.  Right?

   I’m not saying if you image that mustard being mayo that my fridge looked like this, but…truth is truth…
I’m not saying if you image that mustard being mayo that my fridge looked like this, but…truth is truth…

I knelt down in front of the fridge, Sarah standing somewhere behind me, all ready to say “I told you so”.  Oh yea.  Her finger was on the trigger.  And she certainly wasn’t gonna waste her time asking questions first.  Unfortunately for her, though, I saw the mayo right away.  Cause I’m not a stupid kid.  And I know that eyes work much better when they’re open.  “I think I see it, Sarah.” I whispered.

“What?”  She said, very short.

“Shhhhh!” I yelled at her from over my shoulder.  “Mayonnaises can be really wily.”  I slowly moved a container of food out of the way.  “You have to be really, really quiet if you want to catch it.

I could just feel Sarah’s eyes boring holes in the back of my head.

I daftly moved another container.  “It likes to hide.” I whispered.

“Dad!”  She whined, apparently not amused.  “Just give it to me!”

I quickly shot my hand to the back of the fridge, like a snake attacking a tender, young mouse.  “Shit!”  I said, discouraged.  I slumped back on the floor.   “Damn it, Sarah!  You scared it!  I almost had it.”

“Will you just give me the mayo?”  Sarah continued to whine, still apparently not amused.

My point taken, I grabbed the mayo, smirked and tossed it to her.  “Eyes…”

“…work better when they’re open.”  Sarah said, interrupting me. “ Yeayeayea.  I know, dad.  I know.”

***

Some time later, I’m at Walmart.  Buying shit, like I always do.  I pass the condiment aisle, with all the ketchups, mustards, mayonnaises standing in a row like toy soldiers (Step by step.  Heart to heart.  Left, right, left.  We all fall down.  Like toy soldiers…C’mon.  Don’t even pretend you don’t remember that Martika classic). So, I grabbed a mayonnaise, snapped a pic…

in the wild mayo

And texted it to Sarah:  Holy Shit! I caught one in the wild!  I caught one in the wild!

I’m still trying to figure out her reply:  eff u.

You may also like

1 Comment

  1. Yeah ! happens to me ALL the time! No one else can find stuff except me & the excuse sometimes is .. "it's in the wrong spot " ???? This was funny ! Had a good laugh ! Thanks ! Nice for a gloomy Mon morning!