Big Red Car here.
So yesterday, I am home from Sam’s (no he did not buy any unnecessary tools or a third pressure washer) with That Guy with some frozen fruit for his smoothies. Well, and about $300 worth of other things he did not really need. Reminder: do not go to Sam’s on an empty stomach.
How the old boy loves a good smoothie — strawberries, mangos, blueberries — and he drinks them often. Thinks they are gentle on his digestion. He loves that Greek yogurt (very high in protein in its own right), a bit of flax seed oil (keeps the joints limber and smooth and after a dislocated shoulder and a chainsaw rotator cuff surgery, he likes limber joints), more than a bit of protein powder, a couple packets of vitamin C and some soy or almond milk.
The secret is the frozen fruit because now you don’t have to put in any ice.
So while trying to stuff all the frozen fruit (enough mangos, strawberries, blueberries to feed a herd of Huns for a month) in the freezer, he stumbled on one of his favorite frozen meals. It had an expiration date. The expiration date had passed and there he stood looking down the barrel of a three week delay in consuming that scrumptious meal. Three weeks.
I began to ponder the obvious implications. This was certainly a misdemeanor but was it a felony? Was the food spoilt? What did this all mean? What danger would he expose himself to if he cavalierly ignored the obvious and just ate the damn thing?
I could sense the internal negotiations and I felt him temporizing with himself and I mused — what the Hell could have gone wrong in that freezer in the last three weeks to a frozen meal that was at least a 12 on the Mohs Scale?
The next night, he gamely put his affairs in order and zapped that damn frozen meal in the microwave. I watched his lips moving as he said a couple of Hail Mary’s and rushed through a quick Our Father (probably only got a half credit for that one) and wolfed those spaghetti and meatballs down. He was watching the North Carolina Tarheels demolish some hapless opponent so at least he would die happy.
A couple of Coronistas for antiseptic virtue and then That Guy waited. Nothing happened. He ate some pistachio nuts for their salty goodness and went to bed.
He awoke the next morning having cheated death and feeling quite pleased with myself. Sheeet, no expiration date can terrorize That Guy!
So I got to thinking — what other things in our lives are facing an expiration date?
Have you spoken to your parents recently? Your college roommate? Your kids? Taken a ride through the Hill Country to admire the bluebonnets? Had blueberry pancakes at The Counter Cafe? Changed the oil in your favorite convertible? Rotated your tires? Gotten a massage?
What the Hell are we all waiting for? Don’t let those expiration dates slip through your fingers. Tell me what is expiring in your life and how you intend to cheat that damn expiration date.
