Sometime in the beginning of January, I bought a little bit of garlic. A medium-sized plastic tin full of pre-peeled cloves. Very practical, I thought to myself as I loaded them into that week’s grocery cart. Well done. And, for just $1.44? A steal, no doubt. Yay, me. Ever the thrifty one, yup, that’s me.
Husband arrived home that night and noticed my new purchase in the refrigerator.
Wow. He calls out to me, as I sit in the adjoining room. That’s a LOT of garlic!
Truly surprised that a) he would even notice but also that b) he thought it too much, I answered,
Well, not really. I cook with garlic all the time! I’m sure I’ll get right through it. You just don’t know how much I actually need garlic. You’ll see.
Alright. But, I can just tell in his voice that he doubts me. That he thinks I’m being wasteful…again.
I’ll show him, I thought to myself. I will.
So, today (two months later), when I went to make a baked ziti and reached for a little garlic powder before I remembered that…oh, yeeeeah. I’ve got that real garlic somewhere in here and…
Sigh. Oh, go ahead. Mark the date and time. I hereby admit, he was right.
Nuts. Hate when that happens.