She Carried An Onion. Let's Not Start Polishing Her Food-Grammy.

Always the unpaid intern, never the star. That's Val's life in a nutshell. A nutshell she has been sealed into by Hick, with bad caulking. That man just can't appreciate anything!

Join me in my nutshell, for the 3rd installment of our continuing series "This Is the Time of Day When We Talk About the Most Recent Thing You've Done Wrong."

Hick has been running to and fro, all willy-nilly, across the county, despite a decree that put us in Stay-At-Home-Down. I have to plan ahead on the timing of supper, and what sumptuous feast I will be providing. Hick had baited me with a Casey's pizza, saying he saw they were half-price on Friday, before switching to amnesia on the topic after coming home from his visit to his "closed" Storage Unit Store on Saturday.

"I'm going out to weed-eat around the house."

"When will you get the pizza?"

"Oh. I forgot about that. It might have just been for Friday. It came across my phone."

"Okay. I haven't planned anything."

"I can warm up that taco meat that's left over. I can eat it with chips."

"Yeah. You can add cheese and sour cream and salsa. I'll come up around 6:30 and slice an onion for you. Use the triangle chips, not the round ones."

"Okay. I'm going out."

Let the record show that I didn't mind the disappearing pizza. As long as I wasn't expected to pull a 7-course meal out of my Christmas-two-years-ago knit hat with fluffy balls on the ends of the chin strings, it didn't much matter. I can always find something quick to make for myself.

I went down to my lair around 4:00, and at 6:30 started upstairs to slice that onion. Which of course meant that I'd also be warming the leftover taco meat, setting out a portion of shredded cheddar, and also the jar of salsa and tub of sour cream, each with their own spoon. Just like I do for tacos, with the exception of not having any tortillas to warm.

Huh! There was Hick, in the La-Z-Boy, spooning something off a paper plate.

"Don't tell me you already ate!"

"Okay..."

"I was on my way up here! For the onion."

"I just came in and warmed it up myself."

"Did you slice an onion?"

"No. I'm done now."

"I TOLD you I'd be up here around 6:30. It's 6:37, and you're DONE!"

"I never do anything the way you want me to do it."

"No you don't. But that's not the point. If I'd known you were doing it yourself, I wouldn't have walked up 13 steps, when I'm not ready to make my own supper yet. You could have texted me that you were fixing your own supper. How hard is THAT? Takes 10 seconds."

"I don't know what you're carrying on about. Alls you were going to do was slice an onion."

WHOOOOOOOOOOSH! That is the sound of steam rushing out of my hot head!

That is SO untrue! No way would I have simply sliced one onion, and called Hick in to make his supper. He KNOWS I would have had all the stuff ready! Slice an onion??? MY AMPLE RUMPUS!

This situation reminds me of two of my favorite bad movies. Not so much bad, as mediocre movies that people like to watch over and over.

Like Dirty Dancing. When Baby, to justify her presence at the staff party, tells Johnny,  
"I carried a watermelon."

Like Coyote Ugly. When Rachel is jealous that Lil and the coyotes are congratulating Violet on her debut after singing on the bar. "She sang along with a jukebox. Let's not start polishing a grammy."

I wouldn't even have minded the unnecessary walk up the steps, if Hick had just accepted our discussion of the most recent thing he did wrong, and left it at that. I believe his lecture about me only wanting things done MY way was uncalled-for!

I will listen to Hick when he starts making MY supper every night, and starts his own blog series called "This Is the Time of Day When Val Listens to Me Lecture Her After She Tries to Do Something Nice For Me."