Greasy Baby Steps

First off, we'll start with a POSITIVE.

Hick made his own lunch on Monday! I'm so proud. He usually has lunch in town, using fast food coupons that I clip for him. He had appeared in the house as I was putting on shoes to go to town. Said he was going to make a sandwich of leftover bacon on Hawaiian Rolls, and leftover potatoes/carrots/onions that had been roasted with the bacon. I figured he could handle such a task, although he would prefer that I did it for him. He said he was fine with making his own lunch.

"There's tomato. If you want to slice it. Tomato is good on a bacon sandwich. My Pioneer Woman knife slices really well. But DON'T cut it on a paper plate on the counter! You have to put the cutting board over there, or the knife will leave a scratch through the paper plate."

Hick did not accept nor reject the addition of tomato to his sandwich. He just nodded. I took that as my opportunity to escape, and off I went to transfer The Pony's funds for fall semester books. Oh, and since I was out, to pick up a 44 oz Diet Coke and scratchers.

When I returned home, Hick was racing across the front field on the Gator, like he was going to cut in front of me. Turns out he just wanted me to stop. A hand up signifying "HALT" might work better next time than a narrowly-aborted game of chicken. Just sayin'.

After a brief conversation, I entered the house to find [NEGATIVE COMING] a plastic quart container half full of water, sitting in the sink.

Let the record show that I did not expect Hick to wash that container. I do the dish-washing, and figured he would set it beside the sink, like normal, for me to wash later. Here's the thing. Nobody fills a plastic quart container, with congealed bacon grease coating the inside, with cold water! That is folly! Nothing is gained, except a bigger mess!

Such a container is first pre-treated by wiping out the grease with a stale bun, to feed it to the dogs, or with a paper towel, to throw away. THEN the container is rinsed with HOT water, and then washed in the sink with the rest of the dishes.

Seriously! Who does that? Soaks bacon grease in cold water? And just when I was thinking that Hick might be able to survive without me telling him when to breathe in/breathe out.

I'm guessing that maybe he actually sliced a tomato, though. Or else he ate it like an apple, on the side. Because one tomato was missing. AND both of my Pioneer Woman ceramic knives had been used, because they were put back in the wrong place. IN the dish drainer instead of jammed down beside it. So Hick used two knives for something, and actually washed them. WAIT! I need to check the smaller one to see if it's greasy! I bet it is. He probably used it on the bacon. I can't imagine him letting the water run long enough to get hot.

No new scratches were evident on the counter. But the cutting board was still as I left it. So maybe Hick used the actual wooden cutting block to prepare his lunch. All in all, I'd say that I escaped Hick's lunch foray relatively unscathed.

And now, for another POSITIVE...

Hick had stopped me in the front field to say that he was getting (one of) his tractor(s) to go up the gravel road and blade the road by the house of those weird people whose kids didn't bring the fundraiser card Hick paid for until three weeks after they promised. You know. Whose dad had asked Hick to spread a load of gravel for him, and never offered any compensation, be it gas money or future help with a Hick project.

"Them people got a rut about yea deep," said Hick, holding his hands two feet apart. "I don't know how they drive on it. I'm gonna knock it out with the tractor."

Because he's a nice guy, our Hick. I'll admit that. Even though we usually mix like bacon grease and cold water.