I was in the middle of making pumpkin scones, already anticipating their warm, flaky, cinnamon-y deliciousness. I had already mixed up all the dry ingredients and cut in the butter. I opened the fridge to grab the bowl of leftover pumpkin puree that was sitting right…there. I know it was there. I didn’t use it up already, did I? No. Well, maybe it’s on this shelf…or this one…or in the cheese drawer…no…well, where is it?
After walking away, then returning and taking one last glance to make sure the bowl hadn’t been sitting right in front of my eyes the whole time, I finally picked up my phone to call T.
“Hi, Beautiful,” he answered, as he always does.
“Hi…um, I’m missing something.”
T said, “Uh…yeah…what is it?”
“My pumpkin puree. I know I had some sitting in the fridge, and I can’t find it!”
T’s next words explained it all: “Yeah, it turns out that the bowl of chili I took to work for lunch today wasn’t really chili.”