In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Saved by the Bell.”
Tell us about a time when you managed to extract yourself from a sticky situation at the very last minute.
It’s hot and sticky here, with no sign of the weather breaking into a more normal pattern. Changing air pressure last night left me with a sinus headache, only partially beginning to clear up when I heard Bob making me breakfast. It was that scrap, scrap, scrap of burnt toast that alerted me to the advent of a perfect egg sandwich. He’s learning to cook my style.
I can make an excellent soufflee, pull together a 20 course dinner for 12, and love cooking. But I’ve never been able to make a simple grilled sandwich. I always manage to burn them badly on side. And thus, the sound of scrap, scrap, scrap is one well known in my house. My girls will remember the mantra “always check the back side of your sandwich” in my house. That’s because it usually had been burned and scraped. Well now that Bob does most of the hard core cooking, it’s interesting to see he’s picking up a couple of my habits like burning the toast with the last of the bread.
Just today there was an article in the washington post about inequality. Evidently the rich do get better breakfast sandwiches than normal. Of course the price is 4 times the normal price, but if your rich who cares. But the important thing is they don’t get the sandwiches made with love like mine. Yes it got scrapped and I had to cut off the burnt edge, but it was delicious. The perfect meal for a hot day.