*********

"Leftovers"

"Mom, what are we having for dinner tonight?"

"Chicken and STOVE TOP, etc., etc.

"Yes!"

Oh bliss.

On utterance of those two magic words, my heart commences cartwheels of joy. Half an hour later, as we sit down to that plateful of food and STOVE TOP, with that golden pile of said stuffing gleaming like amber amongst dirt and rocks, tree bark and leaves.

Like a pig, I wolfishly gulp down two helpings, maybe three. My sister, eating like a bird won't go too much farther than her first allotted share. So, between the four of us, Mom and Dad somehow managing to procure a little bit, perhaps a few spoonfuls will be left. Too stuffed to eat any more, it will be forgotten.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure Mom, I'll eat a little of it after school tomorrow," I assure to the said parental figure.

Tomorrow rolls around. Did I eat any of it? No, of course not. Did anyone else? Naturally, no.

Two days pass. Three. The STOVE TOP remains untouched.

"Sarah, when are you going to eat that stuffing in the fridge?" Dad gripes.

"Later."

The pattern continues for perhaps a week. Then we forget about the STOVE TOP, finally. Three weeks later, I find a certain blue tupperware bowl in the back of the fridge. In it I find STOVE TOP, no longer amber-hued, but instead alternating shades of green and white.

******

Ooooh, while we're looking at the same journal, here is a limerick (no, it's not dirty :-P):

There once was a tabby cat,

Who was inclined to be fat.

He went to the garden,

And asked for my pardon,

Then he fell asleep on my mat.

*********

Aren't you all glad I share such nonsense? Well, a battle with the Thanksgiving dishes is in order, and then Thanksgiving bed. Tomorrow is Black Friday. Yuck yuck yuck yuck yuck.

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