Now that I’ve reached what could be considered the very top end of “middle age,” I have occasionally experienced memory problems. Mind you, I’ve had memory problems before I even reached the bottom level of middle age. Once, when I was just a young gal of 35, we had our brand new pastor and his wife come to our place for dinner. I was honored to be hosting them, and I put baked beans in the oven that afternoon.
We were cooking out hamburgers (it was June) and it should have been a wonderful meal. As it turned out, my memory was shorting out all over the place. First of all, I forgot to add the appropriate liquid – including sauce – to the beans before putting them in the oven. Then we got busy watching our children play, playing card games, and swimming and I forgot the beans entirely – until Matt starting grilling the hamburgers.
That’s when I went in, turned off the oven, and carried out all the condiments, plates, buns, silverware, etc. for our picnic. When the burgers were done, I went into the get the baked beans. There may have actually been beans in that dish, who would know? They were a solid brick of hardened, fossilized rock. Matt couldn’t chisel out a portion with his spatula, a hammer, and a knife. So…we just had burgers and cole slaw.
It turned out our new pastor and his wife had a great sense of humor. We decided that beans needed to be put in an atomic oven and baked at least three weeks before serving. We laughed hard and have been friends ever since – over 30 years now!
I was reminded of the baked bean fiasco last week, when I was creating a care package for an old friend who is in a rehab center. She had asked for some particular items, including cheese sticks, pretzel rods, and puff popcorn. I had added some books, magazines, and lotion to the tote bag. Meanwhile, our friends (the pastor and his wife) were coming for dinner two days later, so while I was buying the care kit items, I purchased potatoes and a couple packages of cooked shrimp to grill.
So that morning, I packed up all the items to go to the rehab center, reached into the fridge, pulled out the bag with the cheese sticks and tossed it on top. Then I went on my merry way.
You know where this is going, don’t you?
About an hour after I delivered the tote bag, I received a text from my friend, thanking me for all the goodies and especially for the SHRIMP!
Heavens above. When I returned home, I looked in the fridge and there in the meat keeper was the bag of cheese sticks. What was I supposed to serve the next night? Grilled cheese sticks??
Back to the store I went, and bought some more shrimp. Plus, now I have to return to the rehab center at some future point to deliver the requested cheese sticks. Maybe it really isn’t a memory loss, it’s just general confusion.
That must explain my shopping trip when Matt had two teeth pulled. He was supposed to eat soft foods for a day, maybe two. So I bought him three packages of macaroni and cheese, six pints of ice cream, ten tubs of yogurt, three 4-packs of pudding, four individual mashed potatoes, and eight individual pots of jello. That’s probably enough for one or two days, don’t you think? I mean, it is if he and every other person in the county who had teeth pulled are coming to our house.
Oh, well, if it weren’t for my confusion, I wouldn’t have so many adventures, would I?