Interesting Palates

Me: Should I have peanut butter with this apple?
Sohi: Peanut butter? I’ve never had peanut butter with apple before.
Me: It’s really yummy. Sometimes that combo is good with cheese as well.
Sohi: I’ve never had peanut butter with apple. I like peanut butter and carrot.
Me: Yeeeah, I could see how that might work. I’d have to try it though.
Sohi: and sultanas
Me: Oh, actually that sounds really good.
Sohi: Carrot, peanut butter, sultanas and scrambled eggs on a bagel.
Me: Oh that sounds really- wait, what?!
Sohi: Grated carrot, scrambled eggs and sultanas on a bagel smeared with peanut butter. It’s really good.

Yeah, I know, our conversations are scintillating. Anyhow

1) I really like the stuff Sohi cooks, and she has a good palate so I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt on this one.  I’m now wondering if I should make a trip to Glicks so I can try this out tomorrow.

2) I realised last night that Sohi knows lots of useful things about everything… and I know lots of useless drivel about trivial things.  That is also a reason I should trust that she’s correct about this peanut butter, carrot, egg bagel of hers- or as she might say, I should trust, epistemically, that she knows better.

BEEF

Staff dinner is at 5. After running up and down the stairs ten million times, we’re usually all starving by 9pm. So when the kitchen accidentally made a double order of beef at 10pm tonight, my girls* acted like all their Christmases had come at once.  They were so excited they pulled me aside and was like “Jennifer! There’s BEEF. Go eat some BEEF!! It’s delicious, and it’s still hot, and it’s BEEF”. I went to the little alcove they’d hidden the dish, and I found almost all of them huddled around stuffing their faces, looking ridiculously pleased with themselves.  I can set my watch to the stomach of one of my girls*- it starts to growl at 9pm on the dot without fail. I have to allocate time for her to sneak into the kitchen to steal some food, or endure forlorn looks for the rest of the night.

Seriously, have I ever mentioned how much I love my girls?*, because I adore them and I tell them so all the time.  Tonight I told one of them I loved her and could we please get married?, and then I told another that she was adorable and could I adopt her? Because they’re all used to me saying weird shit to them, they take these comments all in stride. Girl 2 was like, “sure, shall I be your daughter or your sister?” Peeps, I absolutely want her to be my little sister, she is so freaking cute- she has dimples! Who can resist dimples?!

*my girls are not actually all girls. A good proportion are male. Aaaand most of the girls are my age or older, so this description is a tad patronising, HOWEVER, at some point they all become “my girls” regardless of gender or age. They all get used to it.

Saturday Night

A bunch of us went for breakfast yesterday morning, and a friend who knew I’d had an awful Saturday night asked me what happened.  I put my head in hands and mumbled that I didn’t want to talk about it, to which one of the guys at the table lifted his hand for a high five.  The more I think about it, the more that makes me laugh, so forever more I’m going to pretend that last Saturday night was that kind of night and absolutely warranted a high five.