It’s been a few days now, but it has been a difficult thing to get past. Oh, in the scheme of –well, almost anything, I suppose –it’s way low on the trauma meter….but still…I must share….
I’m sitting here, this very moment, with some toast, spread with Nutella. They always say, “Get right back on the horse,” don’t they??
I was introduced to Nutella back in 1988. (Thanks, Rene!) And it is one of the true wonders of the culinary world. But I digress.
Toast. Nutella. It’s the only way I can move forward.
This is what happened.
On Saturday last, I was craving a munchie. Nothing over-large, as I was saving room in my tummy for the tasty treats at the Greek Festival that night. (A sad aside…they ran out of Baklava while I was stuffing my face on Mousaka and Spanikopita…)
I wandered into the kitchen and I spied one sad croissant, lost and alone in its big plastic home. I decided to rescue it.
Popping it in the microwave for 10 seconds, I was about to open the fridge for butter, but I recalled the Nutella sitting in the cabinet next to the window. I grabbed a butter knife, swiped the jar off the shelf and removed my just warmed croissant. I opened the jar, and was very quick and generous with the slathering of Nutella. I plopped the knife in the sink, and looked down at my treat.
I spotted one of those infernal little ants that seem to like to wander around my sink at various times of the year. I never find them around crumbs, cat food, or any other left out foods; they just drive me nuts with their marching lines from outside to wander around the stainless steel sink, and I am guessing, back outside again.
One year, they had an army marching from the outside, and into the den, around the computer desk and back off to places far distant. Annoying, yes. But there has been no infiltration of late, and I have a clean, white window ledge, free of any marching armies.
I picked him up, and flushed him down the drain. And then, the trauma. The jar lid, still lying open on my counter, was crawling with the little buggers.
Glancing at the croissant, I saw they were all over it, too. I peeked into the Nutella and there were a few more walking around inside the jar!
Quelle horreur! Tossing the croissant, the Nutella, and the lid all into the garbage, I cautiously opened the cabinet again, and looked onto the second shelf. The ants were milling about aimlessly, their destination of nirvana stolen away. I spied more walking along the honey jar. Garbage.
Everything out of the cabinets, washed down and sprayed. They seemed to have found a way to walk up the ledge and along the dark grout lines I have painted, and they have been coming in small numbers, and once they found their heaven, they weren’t leaving. (They have good taste.)
But this could affect my diet! How can one live without being able to eat Nutella?? So, I have purchased a new jar, and toasted myself a slice of bread, and I am going to learn to get over the sight…bite by delicious bite.
Nutella is worth the effort. (Although I think the days of grabbing a spoon and the jar in the dark are 100% OVER)