This is Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle. You already know that there is no such thing as a little handsome…in my case, that is. You already know that there is no such thing as a little moody…also in my case. But let me tell you something that you may not know. There’s no such thing as a little salty.
With the extreme amount of rain that has continued to fall here near Jacksonville Beach, Florida the past week, it has been hard to get to the ocean for our daily walk and siesta every day. Walking thru the mud and puddles is not my idea of spaw time.
So since we have not been able to get our usual beach time in, Girl Person thought that perhaps she should bring it into the RV. You know. The sand. You know. The dirt. You know. The salt. It is beyond me how much sand and salt and everything in between can get into an RV. Beyond me.
Now, if you know Girl Person like I do, and no one actually does, you would know that she can be either like Eeyore…
Or she can be like the Tasmanian Devil.
She is often a multitasker to the extreme. She isn’t as good at it as me, because no one can look in the mirror, tell himself he is beautiful, and then look at himself some more as much as I can. And no can can do this as well as I can. That is for sure.
Now. Being able to multitask is one matter. Being good at what you are multitasking at is quite another. This particular Friday, Girl Person had writing assignments. Girl Person had to dictate the blog, talk on the phone, walk us, go to the grocery store, take our pictures, make our dinner, walk us and then she had to record that podcast nonsense with Boy Person. That is when they just sit there for an hour and talk into microphones to each other. And yeah, this is in fact beyond me. She should have already reached her limit by now.
But you guessed it. She kept going. It was about ten at night. Girl Person thought that ten at night was a good time to make dinner for her and Boy Person. I wasn’t too keen on this because usually, 10:05 is matzo time for me and the Deputy. But as she got out some pots, and cut up some broccoli, I decided that as long as I had to wait for my matzo, I could watch her cook. I knew this was going to be good. Better than Broadway. Some may say it would be creepy watching someone when they didn’t know it. But she was too busy multitasking to notice.
So she got out her spices for the broccoli. The garlic, the pepper. She cut up a lemon. And all was going well. Never mind that only one burner works on the Big Blue Treat Wagon stove at this point. But we will save that story for another day. She was cooking up a storm. Throwing in a toss of this, a toss of that. Singing to Dean Martin on the radio. And she was almost done.
If all food that people cooked made with love tasted great, that would be great. But alas, this is not the case. And it wasn’t the case this night. As Girl Person realized that she forget to add the salt, she quickly, well, added it. And then, she folded a few clothes from the laundry a few hours previously. And then she went back and stirred the broccoli and added more salt. She talked to Boy Person about how tired she was. And then she went back and added more salt. She gave me my matzo which was ten minutes late. And then she added more salt. And finally, when it was time to eat, and her and Boy Person sat down to do so, Boy Person said the broccoli looked real good. They took a bite. They thought they needed to stir it. Now, I sat there watching them as a Sheriff does so good, and I knew. This was not going to end well.
Again, if you know Girl Person as well as I do, you know that she loves to cook. But she doesn’t like it when something she cooks doesn’t turn out the way she wants it to. And as she spit out the next bite of broccoli, and looked at Boy Person…they both said…yep. This wasn’t so good, y’all. In fact, it was pretty salty. A little salty. But there is no such thing as a little salty. Cause you are either salty, or you are not salty. And well, if you are too salty, there is no way to take care of that it seems. You can always add salt, but you can’t take it away. Good thing my salty beauty is untouched.
Boy Person all of a sudden said he wasn’t too hungry and wanted to eat a peanut butter cup anyway. Girl Person started crying, Boy Person told her to calm down, and then Girl Person said she was going to bed. She said she was even too tired to go to bed, Boy Person asked her why she had cooked in the first place, and they might as well have been chasing their own tails. All. Over. Salty. Broccoli.
Now. If a lesson is to be learned here, and there always is a lesson, it is that sometimes, you can try to do so much in your day that you end up putting too much salt on broccoli. No, that is not the lesson as Deputy Digby just related. But the lesson is in fact that sometimes, persons try to do too much. They try to fit in everything in their day that they can. They leave no room or time to sit down and enjoy anything, because they in fact have become too salty. We all need salt to live. But too much, and it is harmful. Don’t do too much. That’s simple, but the truth. The only room left for salt in this RV is going to be in the person’s pants, because the laundry can wait. There’s not much in life that can’t be moved to the next day. We aren’t as important as we think we are. The world would go on without us…so give yourself a break. Leave out so much salt.
-Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle
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Here’s an idea, Girl Person: If you’ve fixed some broccoli and somehow put too much salt in it you can salvage it by cooking some angel hair pasta (because it cooks fast so you don’t have to wait forever). Put no salt in it at all. Mix the broccoli into the pasta, a little at a time. When you have achieved the right balance of too much salt and no salt, you will have a great pasta dish, a sort of a prima vera, that isn’t too salty. Sprinkle in some Italian seasoning if there isn’t any in the broccoli.
Great story too much salt is yucky. Love to see you guys like Matoz oh well have a blessed Monday
Leave out so much salt, now that’s a motto I can get behind! I’m glad Boy person is ok after using those terrible two words I hate to hear, “calm down.” Somehow, that never works the way my boy person thinks it’s going to work! 😉
So true! As a security guard working in a grant-funded clinic for low income, Medicare, Medicaid patients, I have seen people get a little agitated from time to time. I have left post instructions for anyone who might have to relieve me that include, “Never tell an agitated person to ‘calm down.’ It tends to have the opposite effect.” Seriously! The next thing they usually do is yell “I AM calm!” Which, of course, they aren’t.