18th November, 2006
The Lost Butter
by
Today I did an extra big shop-out at the Superstore because I had to add all of Luke’s favourite stuff. He’s moving back home tomorrow, so I wanted to be ready with the Louisiana-style hot wings, Dorito chips and Coke. I also got masses of unsweetened chocolate and pounds of butter so that Gord and I can bake ourselves nutty next week.
When I got home, Denis was out and about, so asked if I needed help unloading the van. I said, “After last week when you lost ten pounds of butter, I think I’ll just do it myself.” Last Monday I’d come home with two bags of butter, ten pounds in one and twelve in the other. Nicky and Denis unloaded everything and put stuff away downstairs for me.
On Wednesday I left Gord to go to a meeting, and when I returned, he said he’d been unable to continue baking as he was out of butter. I knew this was impossible, as we’d used the one bag of twelve, so I knew ten more pounds of butter lurked somewhere. I searched the entire house several times, but the butter was nowhere to be found.
Denis mulled over the idea that perhaps Mojo had snuck the bag into the lower yard and was slowly eating it down there. However, we both agreed the muzzle cleaning would be extensive and very obvious, so we didn’t think the butter was out in the yard.
I know Luke is looking forward to moving back home, as he’d looked into the fridge the other day and remarked, “All this wonderful food! I’m going to put the frozen fried chicken beside my bed while I’m sleeping!” As he’s going to continue to do construction labouring one or two days a week while in school studying welding, I’m sure the amount of food he’s going to consume is going to be fairly hefty.
I don’t mind any of the food consumption, but the one thing that drives me mad about living with three males is that they lose everything, and sometimes it’s my stuff that they lose. In my life I can remember a handful of things that I’ve ever lost, and I’m still being driven nuts by them. However, every day there’s a major item missing, and the three of them are like “I didn’t see it. I didn’t touch it.”
As Denis is partially deranged, I tried to imagine where in the world he could’ve put the bag of butter, but I couldn’t. Finally today I went downstairs to organize the Tupperware containing unsealed fruitcakes, and when I went to lift the lid on one, there was the butter! Just for extra suspense, Denis had placed it inside a container, and then put on the lid. He must’ve known that during this, the height of fruitcake season, it would be a particularly interesting test of the strength of my nerves. Perhaps when he’s given the bill for my two weeks of recovery in a spa, he will think twice about this type of tomfoolery.