Trapped With a Rat

Hick did not go to town to work on Pony House on Thursday morning! I suppose it was just as well, what with bringing home SilverRedO less that 24 hours earlier, MOSTLY repaired from the snowy slip on Feb 3. I say MOSTLY, because I overheard Hick on the phone telling The Veteran that Mick the Mechanic still needs to replace the broken tail light.

Anyhoo... Hick declared that it was too dangerous to go to town on the sleet, with more sleet and freezing rain expected to start by 11:00. He told his helper they weren't working. He made himself bacon and eggs. He left two pieces of bacon on a plate for The Pony. No mention was made to me about extra bacon. Nor was I asked if I'd like some eggs. That's Hick for you. 

I heard some cracking or rustling or other unexplainable noise behind my head, from the kitchen, as I was sitting on the short couch.

"What are you doing?"

"Cleaning the cutting block."

"Cleaning OFF the cutting block?"

"No. Cleaning the cutting block. Scrubbing it. It's dirty."

"Um. It's ALWAYS going to be dirty, unless you sand off a few millimeters of wood. It's all those layers of oil that someone used to condition it when it was a real butcher block. Every time I wipe it off with a wet paper towel from the dishwater, it comes out black. No matter how many times I wipe it."

"Huh."

By that answer, I could tell that Hick was finding out the same thing. It's not like we toss our bare food on the cutting block without a plate, and start eating, as if from a trough! I don't know why he sees the need to scrub the cutting block. I wipe it off every day when I wash the dishes.

Speaking of dish-washing... later in the evening, I was sudsing up the CHINESE TUPPERWARE that came with our carry-out on Wednesday. I couldn't find my green scrubby thing. It's that dark green rough stuff like on one side of a sponge, but it's just a little rectangle of the green stuff. Flat. A little bigger than a sponge. 

"Hey, where did my green scrubby thing go? I need it to get in the little grooves at the edge of the Chinese Tupperware. To get all the oil out. And to get the gummy rice stuff off the silverware."

"I used it. To clean the cutting block."

"WHAT? You didn't ask! Where is it?"

"I throwed it away. It was dirty."

"You threw away my green scrubby thing? And didn't even tell me? It could have been washed! I need it! I use it every day! A plain sponge is too soft for some things."

"I figured you had more."

"No. I don't. So you'll have to go buy me more green scrubby things. Since you threw my last one away."

I can't imagine what kind of item Hick will bring home and declare that it's the same as a green scrubby thing. I'd show you a picture, and give him one to have on his phone while he shops, but he THREW AWAY the last green scrubby thing. Don't for one second think that by holding it in his hands, he will remember what it was like.

This is why Hick needs to get out of the house every day. EVERY day.