Adventures in Peas & Meatballs

The children are tucked up but the sun is yet to set. I find myself in limbo - waiting for darkness in order to feel cosy & have my desire to curl up & do nothing justified. I've cooked a rather unimaginative but satisfying dinner - meatballs, plain & peas. Nothing else whatsoever - & as I sit down to eat, on the sofa, one leg tucked beneath my bottom, a mug of hot chocolate sits on a side table, conspicuously out of reach & waiting patiently for me to finish my meal. Hallo, H.C. I see you. Tasty.

I take look down at my meal, by now I'm half way through & enjoying it's simplicity adequately. I look down at the rather large meatball, & pause before biting half of it away. I am left with half a meatball staring at me with a strangely large green stem poking out of it. I contemplate for a while what this stalk could be. I'm sure it's meant to be there, but I briefly acknowledge that it may be rogue. I think about going to fish the packet from the bin to peruse the ingredients, but where's the fun in that?

I delicately remove the stem from its captor & attempt to taste it. If it's rogue, it could possibly kill me, or at east taste a bit naff. I'm living life on the edge. Hmm. What is it? Mint? In a beef meatball? No. Basil? Can't tell. After a tense moment it is gone. Flavourless. I will never know of it's origins, purposes or journey to the meatball. Ah, the mysteries of life.

I finish my meal. Goodbye peas.

I walk slowly toward the mug of warm chocolate drink. I sit, laptop atop lap & mug in hand. The D key is sticky. It's probably food of some sort, but I cannot recall what it would be. I think back to my adventurousness while dining & with a devilish flick of my left index finger I scratch the unknown sticky stuff & taste it. Flavourless. Hmm.

The risks I take. Today I have been truly bold & daring. Bow down as you will, cowards.