You've gotta laugh--
Tam and I watched the current episode of Archer tonight, with a nice treat: a couple of Nathan's hot dogs each, almost as good as Hebrew National. As a condiment (along with the usual -- jalapeno catchup* and brown deli mustard), I diced some green onion that needed used up, an a couple of radishes for me. I like radishes and this batch had a little zing, so why not?
After dinner was over and the dysfunctional-family spy spoof was over, there was radish left over. Ah, thinks I, there's a treat -- I'll eat that on buttered toast with a nice cuppa tea, just a soon as I move my laundry from the washer to the dryer.
When I was a child, sliced-radish-on-buttered-white-bread sammiches (usually alongside a cup of soup) were a lunchtime treat I truly loved and I was thinking fondly of them as I slopped damp clothes from one appliance to another.
Came back up to find Tam loading the dishwasher. Poured my cup of tea as we chatted, made toast, turned to the stove-side counter where I'd left the cutting board with a little heap of radish bits: nothin'. Gone. Turned back to the sink and realized the (plastic) cutting board was soaking in suds.
"Aw, dammit! You threw out my radish!" I was aghast.
Tam was puzzled. She'd been tidying up the kitchen, tossing out some pretty obvious garbage in the course of clearing away dinner fixings, and now there's cussing?
One person's delight is another table scraps.
All's well that ends well: even though I like 'em, the odds of me getting through an entire bag of radishes are as near zero as makes no never mind. I had plenty left, so I sliced up another and had my comfort food just fine.
* Blogger, Firefox, what the hell? WHAT. THE. HELL? No. It is not "catchup." Definitely not. Catsup, yes indeedy, your little red wiggly line and/or highlighted yellow rectangle notwithstanding; ketchup, damn' skippy, oh, and you'll accept that, willya? Harrumph.
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