While raiding the refrigerator for a snack, I saw a bag of deli-sliced cheese. Mmmm, I love cheese. I looked over the package to see what kind it was.
"Yummm. Provolone," I thought as I ripped open the label. I sat down, ate a slice, and blankly stared at the bag while I chewed. My eyes initially glazed over the label, but then something on the corner caught my eye.
"It expires today!" I yelled in my head. All of that cheese would soon become an inedible moldy mess! As a fan of all that is curdled and pressed, I could not bear the thought of letting all of that glorious provolone go to waste. So...
I ate it.
All of it.
Savoring, slice by milky slice.
And it was good.
That night, when my brother was preparing his lunch for the next day, he stood in the refrigerator doorway, touching shelves, opening drawers, shifting things, lifting things.
Brother: Do you know where the cheese is?
Me: Which cheese?
Brother: The provolone that I just bought today.
Me: I don't know where that is, but I ate the cheese that expired today.
Brother: We don't have any other cheese. The only cheese we have was the pound of provolone that I bought today."
I watched him stand straight up, and then turn and look at me. With an expression somewhere between disgust and amazement, he gaped. "You ate a pound of cheese?!?"
7 comments:
Brother, this is why I couldn't tell you that your Christmas pasta salad didn't need more salt. What it needed was more cheese.
This post might be more alarming if I hadn't just downed a healthy portion of a cheese ball for breakfast.
Say "chieze!"
(Or is it "xieze?")
I kinda recall a significant other in your life bringing you a bouquet of string cheese, no?
Kellebelle--it's qisi (according to the staff at McDonalds).
Micah-- as far as my hubby can recollect, it wasn't him, but he says he can take a hint.
That is so disgusting slash wonderful.
And what we later found out was that the date on the cheese was the "purchase by" date, not the "eat by" date. ;D
Good times.
Lar.
Same diff.
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