So, as I am usually forced to do, I had to invite my family and myself to someone esle’s house for dinner. We sit around by the phone, waiting…but it never rings.
This time, Scott was the lucky host. We’ve invited him to our house and cooked elaborate meals for him at least 23 times already this year. The first time he came to visit we ate garlic bread and lemon bars for dinner. How awesome is that? And it only got better, folks!
But now it was time for him to invite us to his home, and since he wasn’t doing it, I did it for him. I’m a good friend like that. I called him about 10 days ago and said, “Scott! Great news! I bought you a housewarming present! But I won’t give it to you unless you invite us to your house for dinner.”
As you can see, he was thrilled to see us arrive:
He made us turtle soup from a turtle he found trying to cross the road:
And frog legs from a frog he found in his back yard:
You wouldn’t think there’d be a lot of meat on that tiny little turtle, but they puff up when you put them in the oven-see?
Actually, there’s more meat than you can tell. Scott is just so freakishly tall, that he dwarfs anything he’s near. In fact, you know the open space between the top of the kitchen cupboards and the ceiling? The place where you’re supposed to place decorations by way of a step ladder? Yeah, that’s where Scott keeps his drinking glasses. When we ask for drinks, he just says, “Help yourself. Glasses are on the top shelf…” and then lets out a sinister, “Mwah ha ha!” Scott doesn’t own a step ladder. We tried tossing Boy7 up there to throw glasses down to us, but he’s gotten too heavy. We had to drink from the hose in the backyard to slake our thirst.
He also fed us mashed potatoes.
Remember when I put that potato on his door knob? Actually, I’m not sure I ever shared that story…Oh, yes I did. Here it is. Anyway, he lovingly planted it in his backyard (threw it in the bushes) where it sprouted under his tender care (What’s this weed? Where’s my Roundup?) and produced a lovely crop of potatoes (I’ll serve these poisoned potatoes to the Lizards. It’ll serve them right for draping potatoes on my house.)
About Scott’s housewarming present. Scott has one of those sticky-out windows over his kitchen sink that are like little greenhouses for plants. So, back in January when he moved in, I thought to myself, “I’ll buy some herb seeds and plant them in tiny little trays until they become seedlings, and then transfer them to little pots and give them to Scott.”
Ok, ok. I’ll pause so you can laugh and laugh until you get it out of your system.
Yeah. The whole seeds and seedlings and pots never happened. But about 10 days ago, I found a cilantro plant and a lovely little pot and so I bought the plant and pot and transferred the plant into the pot. Unfortunately, the poor little plant was forced to live in my house for the next 10 days, which was about 9 days too long.
This is a picture of the cilantro plant I gave him in Scott’s little greenhouse.
Obviously, it’s dead. I told you I was bad at gardening.
Scott assured me with great confidence that he’d be able to revive it. Perhaps that’s why he stole the scrubs from the hospital. Did you notice him wearing stolen scrubs in the first picture? Maybe when you wear medical personnel uniforms, it transfers reviving skills directly to you. Sort of a matrix-y download kind of thing. Or, perhaps rather than actually downloading the skills to you, it just gives you delusions of grandeur making you think you can revive plants that are obviously stone-cold dead into flourishing flora.
Even though I secretly think Scott stole the scrubs, he claims that when he wore the scrubs when his sons were born that he asked the hospital staff, “Can I keep these?” and they said yes. People, this is why our health insurance costs are so high. Someone had to pay for those scrubs. Thank you, Cigna, for Scott’s scrubs. We’ll be sending our additional $300 each month this year, now that our rates are jacked up even higher, to fill the Scott’s Stolen Scrubs fund.
And really, Scott, why? Why? At what point when you were wearing those baggy scrubs with “St. Peter’s Medical Center” stamped on the butt did you think, “Ooo! Lookin’ fine in these scrubs! I’ma get me some!”
Anyway, if Scott has to call the cilantro in the near future, I also bought him an oregano plant to make up for the dead cilantro. And I bought the oregano today at 3:00 and by 4:30 it was in Scott’s house, so the thing has a fighting chance.
All in all, it was a lovely evening and we had a great time. We’ll be sure to invite ourselves back real soon. Friendly staff, exotic dishes, elaborate costumes. What more could we want?