All Heart, No Cry

Both of my teenagers like to cook, but as for the kitchen clean-up after, not so much. Yesterday, I came home to what was scattered about on kitchen countertops, and included in the remnants of some kind of meal preparation ingredients, whitish blue-and-yellow-hued chopped onions were sprinkled in a translucent, delicate array set-atop the canvas of a white-melamine cutting board.

As I walked by the kitchen island for a closer inspection, this near-dime-sized onion heart-shape was staring up at me as if to say, “I’m not here to make you cry, there will be no tears today.” This statement, being heard by an onion piece that did not make it into the delicious-something that was made earlier, is highly suspicious to be believed.

There seems to be enough “leftovers” on this particular cutting board to add to a salad later, so with a few swipes of a chef’s knife, the onion bits are loudly “scrape-scrape-scraped” and “tap-tap-tapped” into a small glass bowl. Opening my refrigerator, just cleaned last weekend, it is now surprisingly difficult to see even a little cleared-corner to tuck this treasure.

Since my recent reorganization, in only one-week’s time, it appears that sauce bottles, miscellaneous bagged and bowled food items, and a loaf of bread have now populated the once-opened space. I chose to add this covered, cup-sized bowl to a medium stack of larger bowled-somethings that now form a tiered-tower on the second shelf just below the designated shelf of milks and juices.

As many times as I clean-out my refrigerator, the need to do it remains the same: the main culprits are an assorted collection of unruly sauce bottles. Dipping-sauces, sauce flavorings, and especially various levels of capsaicin-infused gems all culminating and literally appearing out of thin air, all-front and center. It’s as if Jon is still here and living in my refrigerator, surrounded by all his favorite ingredients and procured concoctions. My children have taken-on his love of these anticipated tastes, culinary curiosity, and lack of kitchen clean-up skills. Oh, onion heart, you were wrong, there will be tears today. ❤️~P.

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