Cravings R Us

I walked in from work and put my things down. Per my custom, I jumped in the shower right after getting home. This is a relic of seagoing days, when getting home from work meant one was covered in salt water and hydraulic oil, a unique scent that Love called the "boat funk". In those heady days when "Hi honey, I'm home!" meant a noseful of salt, diesel exhaust, and MILTP-2190, Love would usually not get within arm's length of me until I had showered.

It's a tradition I continue to this day. In a way, the practice of showering right after work is somehow cathartic; I imagine the last remnants of the workday washing down the drain. It's the final step in letting go of the day. I emerged from the shower to hear plates clanking in the kitchen. "Hello!" I chirped. "hullo" came the mumbled reply. This was an instant giveaway that something was wrong. I came downstairs and didn't even have to ask.

"What's wrong?"

"I feel crappy...and I want a milkshake. But we don't have anything to make milkshakes with."

Now, it's the end of the pay period. As a matter of fact, we just got paid today but hadn't had the chance to go to the store yet. I bounded back up the stairs, grabbed my sandals and did a little happy dance that, just for one day, the temperature reached 60 degrees and I could wear sandals, and set off for the Giant down the street.

15 minutes and $10.23 later, I returned home with a gallon of milk, a half gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream, and a can of whipped cream. While I was away, Love had completed most of dinner. We finished our tasks at the same time and sat down to eat - including a shamrock shake (it's almost March!), colored green to boot.



The best things in life are free.