I mentioned, in a previous blog, that some of our camping equipment and food was stolen from the bike trailer while we were on our trip. Jeff insists that it must have fallen off while we drove (as if other drivers wouldn’t flip us off after our grill bounced off their hood) or we left it behind somewhere (believe me, I’m too anal for that to happen).
He refuses to believe that anyone would take things from a trailer–left uncovered and parked overnight in public parking lot, practically marked with a sign that says “We’re sleeping … come take our unprotected belongings” –but come on … let’s not be naïve.
Most of it I don’t miss, and I feel almost sorry for someone who needs to steal, but the bastard swiped my good potato peeler!!!
Something told me, as I was packing, to not bring the good potato peeler. We had two: one was average and the other was incredible. In fact, it was such a good utensil that I would actually peel potatoes. Alas that I didn’t listen to my inner nudge.
For many years, we went without mashed potatoes (or peeled carrots, cucumbers, whatever other vittles need to be peeled) unless Jeff was willing to do it, because I detest that job. I used to look like an actress in one of those hokey kitchen appliance infomercials where she would totally freak out and be bested by a spaghetti strainer or what-have-you. Vegetables would fly out of my hand and I’d peel off fingernails (or, even worse, parts of fingers!). Truly, I did not enjoy peeling vegetables. Verily, the job vexed me.
But one day Jeff’s mom gifted us with an Oxo Good Grips potato peeler after watching me battle a tater, and it has been a Godsend.
Seriously, this thing does all the work for you. It hums in your hand and massages your toes as it magically removes, with almost no effort at all, the peels from even the most misshapen potato. I loved this thing and send posthumous praise to Ma every time I used it. Jeff lives on potatoes, eating them almost every day, so this truly was a blessing.
You’d think that someone who eats so many potatoes would be willing to part with a little coin to buy a nice peeler, but Jeff is a major cheapskate in weird ways. Sure, he thinks nothing of paying $300 to rent a fishing boat, but he refuses to pay $10.99 for a potato peeler. So we’ve always had the cheapest, made-in-China-out-of-lead, potato peeler that you can find at some bargain basement thrift store or flea market.
I’ll admit that I balk a little at paying that much as well because, for crying out loud, it’s a friggin’ potato peeler! However, having used this thing, I now know that it’s worth every penny and more. In fact, I love it so much that I’m going to have to put it on my Christmas wish list, even though kitchen items are usually verboten as Christmas gifts.
Meantime, to the person who stole our stuff: I understand that your lot in life makes you feel that you need to take other people’s things without permission. To me, they are just things, nothing to get attached to or worked up about. Had you asked, I would have gladly shared them with you. Enjoy the grill, the four-pack of tomato soup, the rug, the pink plastic bin filled with kitchen utensils and seasonings, and all the other items you absconded with. But, you bastard, I want my potato peeler back!