A transposition from a chat post on Tumblr
Thursday night into Friday night, I had pulled an all-nighter.
I had just been working on blog, doing man-things, and editing photographs when around 4.30, I just said, "Fuck it. It's 4:45, might as well stay-up all night."
So I stayed up.
For the first time in a long time, I was again the babysitter. I had made bacon and eggs for my dad, and with my ward here for the first time in a month, I decided to feed him. I served him some eggs and turkey bacon, with some ketchup, which he loves.
After waking everyone up and getting them off to school, I was left with my mom.
She ran to do errands, and my nephew was picked-up early by his dad.
Around 11 AM, my mom returned from her errands early and was cleaning up old posts from the refrigerator. She had me pull out this large pot of beans. Usually, they make a pot every week and draw from it when they have recipes that deal with them. Other times, they're just used as fillers for meals.
Anyway, like Gordon Ramsay on a rampage, she looked at the beans and declared that they had slimed over from being so long in there. "Eddie" she said, "take this pot and empty out by the back fence."
It's habit we've gotten into since we owned our first dog. We usually left the scraps to our white shaggy dog, and have done it ever since. Of course, we haven't owned a dog since Daisy, so we usually dump the food out so the stray cats and dogs can have something to eat.
And honestly, you don't want to have old food collect in your trash bin. Shit smells bad after a day or two at 72F. Also, if you're not careful, you can rip the bag while you're taking it out, which means having old wet food to pick-up. And finally, the smells might attract animals, which may rip the bag. So its easier to dump it out back; no fuss, no muss.
So out I went, in a white t-shirt that had two holes near the bottom and grey shorts to the back fence. "God, it's windier than a bastard out here!" I exclaimed.
At the back fence, I slowly toppled the pot, watching the slimy contents ooze out.
I gently began to shake the pan when suddenly, I started with "Oh [Archenemy], harder."
"Yes [Archenemy]. Harder. That's just how I like it, harder.
I didn't increase the intensity of the shaking, but I continued on with the innuendo.
"Oh [Archenemy], that's exactly how I like it: bean-y. YES." followed by a laugh.
Walking back in the cold wind with shorts and a white t-shirt on, I proudly said, "Oh [Archenemy], you've made me the happiest girl this side of [...]."
And you know what? I think I meant that.
Coming soon to the ESF: Struggling with your self-identity.
That's no joking matter-- but it makes sense in this context. :)
