STARTING 4/8/17: Six Word Saturday is now being hosted by the lovely Debbie at Travel With Intent. If you aren't already following Debbie, please visit her blog for Six Word Saturday and her beautiful photos. I'll continue to participate from time to time but please go to Debbie's for the official posts.
If you aren't receiving email replies to your comments, please see this post.
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
As part of our effort to bring a lot of basics since we had more room in our vehicles, I brought along a lot of condiments. And a big tub of butter. Hear me out, folks. I'm going somewhere with this!
When we arrived back home after the trip, I pulled the butter out of the cooler and found a disaster. The butter was full of jagged edges. And CRUMBS!!! In fact, it was quite obvious that someone had wiped their knife on the inside edge of the tub!!! Can you imagine?
Now, I treat my butter like a lady. Smooth edges, even layers. No big gashes out of the center, no ridges from knives. And certainly no crumbs. My family ravaged my butter, leaving it in a very sorry state.
But as I said earlier - this lack of respect applies well beyond the butter. There's no respect for much of anything. Staying in a rented house (a house rented in Joe's name, for the record, making him liable for any damages), they routinely used the hot tub and pool without rinsing the sand off from the beach. In fact, this is how they chose to rinse the sand off. Never mind the conveniently-located outside shower!
There was also no respect when it came to keeping things picked up inside the house. Partially-eaten bags of chips, half cans of soda, wet towels, and other belongings were left everywhere. This made me a bit nuts - with that many people living in such limited space, I craved a bit of order. And none was to be found.
When I returned to the sanctity of my own home, I also craved butter. But first I had to heal it from the atrocities afflicted upon it by my family. I'm sorry, butter. It won't happen again. I promise.
P.S. - Maybe you think I'm a little over the top about my dairy products. But it's not just the butter. It's what it represents. It's much bigger than the butter.
P.P.S. - Respect my butter, respect me. Don't respect my butter, don't expect holiday gifties. Or fresh muffins.