GuysterRules (guysterrules) wrote,

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The absolutely most indispensable kitchen utensil ever!

In our winter of New York, I learned how to bake. It started as a small venture into Tollhouse cookies, but it quickly branched out into banana-coconut cakes, cherry pies and once in a while, an elaborate coffee cake although neither of us drank coffee. It was a no-brainer, really. After looking outside at the miserable weather, the option of staying home and sitting on our increasingly fat butts eating sweet treats was logical.

After our move back to Los Angeles, I continued the tradition although desperation came into the mix. As I couldn't find any work and had only Vinyldog at home to keep me company while Billy was off earning the money, I baked treats for him every night when he came home from work. Our kitchen counters were stacked and many times we'd end up throwing away the voluminous leftovers simply because we were full.

"Why do you keep baking?" Billy once asked.

"Because it's the only thing I feel like I do well," I once answered. I'd even thought of selling the goods to nearby restaurants or stores, but never quite found the energy to market my wares.

Billy was a master at coming up with silly names and games for Bob when he came to live with us. After being deemed Robert Slobbers, the monikers were endless in this goofy pipeline. As ruralrob well knows from his Baxter and Bailey, labs have a little divot at the top of their noses. It is right where the fur stops and the olive begins, the black leathery part that is warm and dry when he’s asleep but becomes wet and sloppy while awake. Olive was the name given to Bob's nose. Olive-work meant kissing Bob's nose. It goes on and on.

One night while lying in bed watching television, I asked Billy if he would like some cookies.

"OK. But bring Bob with you," he called out as I already made my way to the kitchen.


"Because his nose measures an exact half-teaspoon, that's why!" he was so definite in his statement, I busted out laughing.

"Yes, you're right, honey. Bob is very helpful in the kitchen," I agreed.

From then on, at random moments, Billy would turn to me and say, "Bob is very convenient in the kitchen, you know."

"I know," was my prescribed response. And so it went. For years and years. Even now when I am in the kitchen and look down to see Bob at my heels, I say, "You sure are convenient to have in the kitchen!"


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