I should know better than to carry on a long-distance conversation with my hearing-impaired husband. He will deny that, by the way. The “hearing impaired” part.
Me, from the front door, hollering over to him, as he’s raking the lawn:
“Have you seen my pastry cutter?”
“My pastry cutter. Have you seen it?”
“I moved it. It was sharp and you weren’t using it. So.”
Sharp? My pastry cutter? I suppose that’s somewhat accurate. One of the features that I like about it. It does a great job at cutting in butter when I’m making biscuits. It’s especially fabulous at mincing broccoli when I make broccoli balls. But not so “sharp” that it needs special storage.
I’ve mentioned to him on several occasions how much I liked my pastry cutter. Especially since we spent an entire day shopping for it, about five years ago. It was difficult to find one in the big box stores that carried kitchen accessories. AFFORDABLE kitchen accessories. Finally, at a thrift shop in Cambridge, there was my prize – for a $1.75. One blade was bent, but no biggie. It did the job, and then some.
But where was it? I checked both cutlery drawers. Twice. You know the tendency to not see something when it’s sitting there in plain view? I focused. I squinted. I could not make it appear. And now I knew why.
He, in a mood to organize had placed long handles in one drawer, short implements in another. And apparently, sharp dangerous cutting tools were “moved” elsewhere.
“Where did you move it?”
“I don’t remember. Downstairs, on the right.”
Right. “On the right.” I bit back the question, “Can you be more specific?” and went to look for myself. No pastry cutter.
I cancelled plans to make rhubarb squares. I’d only eat them, anyway.
When he finally came into the house, he asked, “Did you find the pizza cutter?”
Ah. That explains it. He had misunderstood me. My mistake. But I was relieved, because maybe now I’d find the missing gadget.
“No. The PASTRY cutter. Where did you move it?”
“I threw it away. You never use it. Besides, it’s a cheap foreign import.”
Suffice to say, we had words.
After we kissed and made up, he went on a mission to make up for his “overreach.” He spent the rest of the day hunting for a replacement at all the new and used outlets. Nothing. “Don’t people make pastry around here?”
At home, however, success. He found one, online. $2.00 plus free shipping. From China.
Tags: adjusting to retirement