Saran Wrap and Dog Shit

I remember having a discussion with my mom once about saran wrap. I was covering something and she exclaimed that she thinks “cling film” (what we call it in the old country) is “bloody useless”. I explained that I agreed, except in the case of the actual brand name cling film, Saran Wrap. I was having great success with this product now that I’d stopped buying the generic grocery store brand. (For the record, I am a huge proponent of generic grocery products. I used to refuse to buy generic soup or cheese but I’m even on board with those items now.) Anyway, Mom watched as I swiftly and effortless covered a glass bowl of salad greens or whatever it was with the afore mentioned Saran Wrap and was truly amazed at how adamantly it stuck! Which brings me to this evening and my domestic dilemma… Does Saran Wrap loose its sticky over time? I’m pretty sure the box I used tonight is the same box I discussed with my mom many moons ago. I attempted to cover two glass bowls this evening; one large bowl containing salad, one little bowl containing leftover baked beans for Maeve. I was hopeless! I ended up using rubber bands to secure the film to the damn bowls! What’s that all about!!?? Does is expire!!??? Is Saran Wrap only sticky for a couple of months and then it turns to shit?! Oh, I hear what you’re all saying… “Why doesn’t she just use Tupperware!?!? It’s more cost effective and more environmentally sound. Tomorrow is Earth Day, for God’s sake, and she’s worried about the effectiveness of a product that is ultimately going to end up in a landfill!!!!” Well, let me tell you, you who pass judgment, why I decided to forgo the plastic storage container in exchange for the earth-not-so-friendly option…..

My husband, who you all know is a hero, was kind enough to take charge of all bath and bedtime responsibilities this evening leaving me the dishes and the twelve pack of Negro Modello he brought home. So my objective was to unload, then re-load the dishwasher, tidy up, and put away Maeve’s toys as quickly as humanly possible in order to relax and resume drinking said delicious Mexican beers. Picking Tupperware over saran wrapping the bowls would simply have added another step and left me with two additional dirty dishes to take care. It’s Friday night, people! Every second that stands between me and my Cerveza is precious! So I wrapped the bowls, hurled them in the fridge, washed our plates and silverware, tossed them randomly in the dishwasher, put a few things away, and just as I’m about to make a mad dash for the living room to throw Maeve’s toys in her toy box, something catches my eye out the kitchen window. There I see two ducks, one male, one female, wandering across our fenced in yard! Let me express that there is no water for miles. I mean, miles! Yet these two random mallards are strolling through my freshly cut grass, oblivious to the two dogs and cat inside our house who would gladly put each of them between two slices of bread and end them, feathers, bill and all. Well, I love ducks. Several years ago I went through a short phase where I felt an undeniable urge to learn everything I could about the common mallard duck. (It had a great deal to do with the fact that I was living in a ghetto apartment complex on a stagnant man-made lake where the ducks appeared to suffering from some kind of inbreeding but that’s another story.) I grabbed the camera and ran out into the yard to snap a photo of my new feathered friends. I got a decent shot then shooed them off. The last thing those ducks wanted was to nest in our yard. I remind you of the duck sandwiches I mentioned earlier. I went inside and headed to the bathroom where Zack was giving Maeve a bath to show him the picture. Moments after I entered our little bathroom Zack starts flamboyantly sniffing the air around me. I assume he just dropped a big farbo and is about to blame me for his gas. But, no. Little did I know, Mother Nature, like you, dear reader, was simply paying me back for choosing convenience over her earth. To thank me for my gratuitous use of non-biodegradable cling film, she had strategically planted those two ducks in my yard as a lesson in karma. When I slowly lifted my foot from the bathroom floor, much to my chagrin, I was greeted by a mammoth, stinking schmear of dog shit adhered to the underside of my green flip-flop. I had unknowingly trudged up the back steps, through the back hall, across the kitchen, across the carpeted hall, and into the bathroom all the while toting the good majority of a doggy steamer on my shoe.

Needless to say, I spent my precious R&R&B time (that’s rest&relaxation&beer time) mopping all the damn floors. Lesson learned.