"You know, they will probably starve to death.”
That was what my somewhat smart alecky daughter (I don't know where she gets that from) said to my wife as they were packing for a week-long road trip to northern B.C.
ﾒI'm sure they will be just fine,” replied the Missus, in as believable a voice as she could muster.
Personally, I was not worried about the food aspect of their absence. I can order a pizza with the best of them, so the vittles were just 10 digits away.
Actually, I am fine in the kitchen – because that is where I leave the phone to call for pizza. Seriously, I can cook some rudimentary meals, but if my sons were expecting fine dinning, they had their expectations dashed.
Fortunately, they are old enough to pretty much take care of themselves. And we did have lots of ingredients they can put together to make food, so I knew we would be fine.
Although, within the first 24 hours of the Missus being away, both of my sons had already made a trip to a local fast food establishment.
I did go to the grocery store and picked up some easy-to-cook food. Not those dinners that proclaim they are for watching television while eating. Health wise, I might as well just inject glue into my arteries. One such 'meal' boasted 68 per cent of your daily intake of sodium in just a single serving.
Thanks, but I like my kidneys and would prefer to keep my blood pressure from blowing the top of my head off.
The easy-to-cook meals had to have at least some nutritional value. So after a bit of searching, I collected enough somewhat healthy food to keep three men eating for days, unless some of the teenage herd came by, then I estimated our food stocks would have run out in 67 minutes.
The food supply could also not include hot dogs. I am not 100 per cent sure what hot dogs are made of and that is why I prefer not to eat them. I have never been a hot dog aficionado, and even as a kid I preferred the avoid the quasi meat meal.
I can remember in elementary school when we had 'hot dog day.' For 25 cents, you could purchase a hot dog for lunch. I recall looking at this huge steaming, boiling pot of 'dogs with a thick layer of some sort of foam type substance covering the top and decided hot dogs were not for me.
I knew even without having to resort to ingesting mechanically separated meat products, the boys and I would survive the week of bachelorhood.
My biggest concern with the Missus being missing was the state of the house. With two young men and their friends hanging around all the time, I had visions of coming home from work to a smoldering ruin akin to Pompeii.
Or worse, a kitchen full of dirty dishes. With the Missus working part time, she has a little more time to dedicate to the keeping the house from collapsing into a dusty pile of wood, smelly socks and soiled housewares.
So as a preemptive strike, I had a little chat with the young lads.
ﾒGentlemen, I am not your servant, I am not your house keeper and I am not your maid. No where on me does the word slave appear and you are expected to help keep this house tidy and orderly. Is that understood?”
They both acknowledged my little rant and did a pretty good job at pitching in and keeping our humble home from turning into a pile of rubble.
Of course the hours leading up the return of the Little Woman were filled with the traditional frantic dash to ensure the house was spotless, well maybe not spotless, but at least it was clean and tidy.
We all survived unscathed and well fed, but I am glad she does not go away very often, my dialing finger was getting sore.
Copywrite 2014 Darren Handschuh