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?!?"