Don’t Eat the Olives
I don’t know how or when but at some point, in the nine years of Ol’ Dutch and Miss Trixie’s habitating bliss, certain foods became off limits for Ol’ Dutch to eat as a snack.
Now for those of you who don’t know me, I am constantly in a battle of the waistline and of late have suffered too many casualties with the belt holes. They used to resist giving up their place in the buckle but lately it seems like they roll over and relinquish their spots almost daily.
And it’s a back-and-forth battle where Ol’ Dutch gains some territory, but the caloric enemy seems to always find his way back into my bulky self. I wouldn’t say I am fat and don’t need to as my granddaughters point that out enough. But I am pudgy and trying my best to at least hit the “Large” sizes this year.
And Miss Trixie, ever her helpful self does try and get me some decent snacks to have around the house and that helps a lot. But imagine my surprise when just last week, after three years of eating the olives that Ol’ Dutch thought she lovingly brought home for snack time, she informed me that those were for special dishes.
And not only that, but she also had the audacity to suggest that maybe, just maybe I need to curtail my late-night raids on the olive cellar.
So here I am tonight staring at four jars of scrumptious olives in the pantry, all of them calling my name and tempting me almost beyond my ability to resist. But Ol’ Dutch still knows which side of the bread is buttered on and so I resist with my normal iron will. Or is that fear of Miss Trixie?
It kind of reminds me of the story about the man who was sick in bed and thought to be dying. His wife was baking cookies and the smell gave him the energy to come down to the kitchen for a fresh homemade cookie. As he feebly reached for a warm cookie his wife swatted his hand away and said “Don’t eat those. They are for the wake.”
It’s a lot like that around here and I think in all fairness women need to get a different place to stash things they want to keep for the Sunday potluck at the church or the women’s tea and crumpet affair at the local Eastern Star meeting of the maids.
That way us poor men at least know that what is left in the cupboard is fair game and what we bought we can eat.
Ol’ Dutch does understand about having goods available for cooking and with Miss Trixie, she can take some leftover pancakes, a German sweet chocolate cake and a little milk and create everything from bread pudding to tenderloin steaks.
And cooperation from Ol’ Dutch and doing what I am told is paramount to harmonious living together. After all, I read this past week that “men who bicker with their wives die younger.” Now I am not sure if that means from the stress of arguments or if the wives take that problem into their own hands but Ol’ Dutch is not willing to find out.
On another note, a well-known Christian Comedian, Dennis Swanberg, will appear at the Chapel of the South Fork, 116 Landen Dr. on Saturday, July 17 at 6 p.m. If you would like a night of fun and hilarity, please feel free to come and enjoy yourselves.
He’ll also be in service on Sunday, July 18 at 10 a.m. Then on Monday evening at 5:30 p.m., Trixie and I will host Pickin’ and Grinnin’ where folks will try to remember his jokes and best them.
Miss Trixie will make an appearance at all three and if nothing else, you all can at least see what kind of angel puts up with Ol’ Dutch on a daily basis. As a warning, though, keep your hands off the olives.