Tara Voelker's thoughts. A lot about video games, a little about life
Mary Poppin’s Bag and the Start of the War
So, there is a war beginning in the Mary Poppin’s bag.
It all began when I cooked catfish on the stove. It wasn’t that I cooked catfish*, but rather I left the oil in the pan, and left the pan on the stove. Now, if you are thinking “But Tara, you have cats. You just can’t leave oil sitting out on the stove,” I say to you… it’s call a lid… which I had.
That night, on the white board that Kate and I had bought to doodle on, there had been left a note. “Do all your dishes before bed! This includes pots!” I didn’t really take much heed to the
note, I was saving that oil. I planned on using it again in the near future.
On the following day, my dear Katey and I decided that we were going to have a big dinner. We had noodles with mushroom gravy. It was my turn to do the dishes that night. Kate and I rotate our portion of the chores, you see. We understand that having days off are quite enjoyable. That night my blood sugar was a little low**, so although I put most of our plates away, I left all the pots out. It doesn’t really make a difference if I did it now or when I first got up.
I was wrong. Another note appeared on the white board.
Now, the next day I decided that I wanted to cook some fries, that being the reason that I kept the oil. As I being to golden my shoe strings, I was making some beautiful cheese sauce to serve them with.
Now, once again I left my pan of oil, in addition to my cheese sauce, covered and on the stove.
“Come on guys, do your dishes. They should be done everyday. This is getting gross.”
My response you ask? I too am capable of leaving notes on the white board.
“Kate and I take turns doing dishes. It was my turn and some of the pots weren’t washed because I was having a hypoglycemic attack and thought it would be better to go to bed. Next time I will a make a note to do them anyway and just pass out. Also, this white board was bought for Kate and myself to doodle on. If you wish to keep leaving your passive aggressive notes on the fridge buy some God damn paper. Thanks.”
This is where everything gets truly fun. Some of the roommates decided that since Kate and I aren’t capable of doing dishes that we shouldn’t use any of theirs and relocated them to their private cabinets so that were out of reach.
As many people know, I can be a bit vindictive and never go down with out a fight. And if for some reason I do take the plunge, everyone goes with me.
Kate and I decided that if we can’t use our stuff, they why should they use ours? We took everything in the kitchen that was ours and put it in our own private cabinets. Most of it doesn’t matter… such as the cups or plates. Some of things they are going to miss though…
…like the spatulas, the large serving spoons, the ONLY can opener, our silverware. With the things Kate and I own removed, they have a grand total of four forks. I hope they have fun with that.
Next time I get mad I’m moving my microwave into my room.
*Two of the roommates are vegan, so cooking catfish could have offended them for some reason.
** I was adjusting to being hypoglycemic at the time and would sometimes feel very tired if my sugar wasn’t managed correctly.