On Leftovers
I just got home from the supermarket.
If anything makes me want to pull up a chair and whine, it's looking in the fridge and realizing I'm going to have to spend the next forty minutes getting intimate with last month's leftovers if I'm going to have a shot at getting this week's milk and eggs in cold storage.
Some of my leftovers have been around so long, they're starting to get their own junk mail. Others have evolved even further. They've gone way past the junk mail stage and are approaching higher intelligence. Forget the Lillian Vernon catalog. I looked in there today and found last year's tuna casserole reading the Wall Street Journal.
I always know when it's time to clean out my refrigerator. It's time to clean out the fridge when I run out of Tupperware. Once I cleaned out my refrigerator and ended up with so much Tupperware I got the hostess gift PLUS the stacking sandwhich caddies.
If anything makes me want to pull up a chair and whine, it's looking in the fridge and realizing I'm going to have to spend the next forty minutes getting intimate with last month's leftovers if I'm going to have a shot at getting this week's milk and eggs in cold storage.
Some of my leftovers have been around so long, they're starting to get their own junk mail. Others have evolved even further. They've gone way past the junk mail stage and are approaching higher intelligence. Forget the Lillian Vernon catalog. I looked in there today and found last year's tuna casserole reading the Wall Street Journal.
I always know when it's time to clean out my refrigerator. It's time to clean out the fridge when I run out of Tupperware. Once I cleaned out my refrigerator and ended up with so much Tupperware I got the hostess gift PLUS the stacking sandwhich caddies.
