Tuesday, January 7, 2014

                        OPERATION FIBER FUZZ

     A terrorist has taken over my refridgerator. He is holding my lettuce hostage, and I think he’s multiplying. This really stinks, as I won’t be able to make Mr. Wonderful’s salad, and he gets very crabby sans roughage. 

     I didn’t notice the infiltration until it was too late. I guess that reveals how much fresh cold nourishment I get on a daily basis. Some days, I don’t even crack the stainless steel door. Not that I’m not hungry; it’s just that I can find what I need in the pantry. Yesterday, after a few days of pantry pallor, I decided to venture into the veggie drawer to see what was new. When I pulled open the bin, it hit me. The terrorist had infiltrated the surrounding area and found his prey. I immediately shut the door and began praying that no friends or neighbors would drop by, as I couldn’t think of how to explain the rancid odor that was permeating our entire dwelling. 

   It was time to call in reenforcements, as I had no weapon to defend myself much less attack the enemy forces. The first thing I needed was a gas mask, and there weren’t any in my Ivanka closet. The second thing I needed was a pair of rubber gloves. I found none of those rolled up in my garter belt drawer. Fleeing from one room to another for some way to defend myself and annihilate the enemy, I came across an old ski mask in the I-gave-up-these-sports closet. I pulled that puppy over my head, grabbed the ski mittens underneath and headed back to the battle bin. 

     Scrunching my eyes as if that would block out the smell, I gingerly opened the drawer and cautiously lifted the romaine-mine into a giant baggie. Operation Fiber Fuzz was under way. Sealing up the baggie as quickly as possible, I hightailed it out to the garbage can and deposited the culprit into the lawn clippings. What Mr. Wonderful didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 

     Whew. Phase One of Operation FF complete. Check. Now to fumigate the homestead. Hmm. Febreeze wasn’t going to cut it. Lysol? nope. Candles? hardly. The only thing I could think of was to open every door and window in the entire house and pray for a category one hurricane. As Mr. Wonderful is allergic to the universe, we have never opened a window, so this was to be no small feat. I persevered, though, and within an hour, I could feel a slight current of air. Operation FF, Phase II in motion.
There was no way that the mission would be complete by the time Mr. Wonderful returned from the tennis courts in the next half hour, so the only alternative was to compromise his abiity to smell. This would be a more daunting task than opening the windows, as this man can smell a guy smoking a cigar in Prague. I needed to call in more reenforcements. If I borrowed my friend’s dog for a half hour, the dander would clog his sinuses upon entering the house, and he wouldn’t be able to smell for at least four or five hours. By this time, the Operation would be complete. Hmm. How to explain that all the windows were open? I would tell him I burned something while cooking. As I don’t cook, this might be a hard sell, but I was desperate. I burned several pieces of toast and placed them randomly on a dinner plate. When he asked why I left them there, I would tell him I was going to make garlic croutons for his salad. He hates croutons, so we would undoubtedly get into a “discussion” about why I would purposely make croutons for his salad when he didn’t like them. This would distract him from the Operation, and buy me at least another twenty minutes for the fresh air to work its magic. Expecting him to throw up his arms in exasperation and head for the shower, I could complete the mission and life would resume its normal pulse. 

All of the above went as I imagined, and once I heard the shower running, I breathed a sigh of relief. I closed the windows, washed out the veggie bin and left him a note. “Going to the store to buy some lettuce. Love you, sweetheart. By the way, I thought I’d model the new Victoria Secret outfit you bought me tonight. xo moi.”