More Visits To Grandma’s

This summer has been a doozy. I’m glad it’s done. Truth be told I’m looking forward for this supposed polar vortex brining snow at the end of September. However, like all things weather related, I’ll believe it when I see it.

This year we went to Grandma’s almost every weekend, at least for a day if not the entire weekend. Both fortunately and unfortunately our visits did not result in as many food instances and prior years. I think the constant nagging from all family members has started to have some affect. That’s not to say there were not a few moments that must be shared!

The sour cream happening:

I went to grab the sour cream from the fridge. I opened it and it had one scoop out of the middle but the side was all moldy. I was sad. I had a left over burrito from one of the best burrito places ever. It’s Jimmy’s Roadhouse in Newago, Mi. So good, and that’s saying quite a bit because one of the most famous burrito joints is just down the street from where I live.

When I saw the mold I went “Oh no, it’s moldy,” and my expression was that of a ballon deflating. Grandma stated that the sour cream was new. Husband goes “That happens in this kind of weather,” which it does. When it’s hot and muggy things just spoil. I took the sour cream and trashed it promptly, mostly because I didn’t want to find Grandma trying to salvage the moldy sour cream, which she would.

On my way to the trash can I decided to take a look on the expiration date on the sour cream. It was 7/31, the sour cream instant happened 9/1. I’m sure that Grandma had just opened that sour cream and it was “new” however it most likely sat in the fridge for a few months. The expiration time on sour cream is ridiculous! I picked up a sour cream a few weeks ago and the date on it is for mid October! There is a very good chance that this sour cream was purchased in May. It was probably a deal buy one get one that she picked up to save some money. However it doesn’t save anyone any money if it just goes back because it’s never going to get used up in time. My mom has started doing this kind of “deal shopping” too, at least in my mom’s case she has a person who falls into the catorigor of “Shit YEAH, I’ll take free food!” (That’s me!) So, my mom saves no dollars and I save dollars. *shrug*

Then There was the potato incident.

We got to visit grandmas just this past weekend. We were the first ones to get there. Typically my mom will be up at my grandma’s for a few hours before we can get ourselves packed and out the door. Grandma for some reason likes to keep the house locked up tighter than Alcatraz. This results in a rather stuffy and somewhat smelly house. Let’s face it, old people just don’t smell the best.

I go in and unload our stuff to where we would be sleeping. I noticed that it kind of smelled like garbage/poo. I’m all “uhhh, this house needs to be aired out!” I open windows and put some fans in the door. Then for some strange reason I decided to walk into the pantry. I took two steps in and started gagging, fanning my face and saying “Potatoes! It’s the potatoes!”

My mom and Husband were looking at me like I was crazy.

My mom, was the funniest she walks into the house and claims “That’s shit! It smells like shit, not potatoes!”

No, it’s potatoes. Ever smelled rotten potatoes, don’t. It’s awful. Potatoes as they rot don’t just decompose into nothing they turn into this pile of watery mush that stinks worse than you’re cat’s worst bowel movement. Not only is there rotten potatoes but rotten potato water that will not be contained in some sad hole-y potato bag.

Potato water, everywhere.

The panty is carpeted.

I grabbed a plastic bag, made Husband hold it as I picked up the bag of rotten mushed potatoes and potato sewage and put it in the plastic bag. I then ran out of the room, to the outside gagging.

Small one saw me and asks “What you doing mommy?”

“Puking, honey, I’m puking.”

I few moments I hear what is she doing, to which Small one resounds, “Mommy’s puking out back.”

We tried our best to soak up the potato sewage but all three of us couldn’t handle it for more than 30 seconds to a minute at a time. Amazing that the amount time we could stand being around the pantry was also the amount of time one could hold their breath from the breeze way to the pantry and back.

Eventually we gave up on the hazmat operation and just left the door shut and sprayed a bunch of air fresher.

Later that weekend my mom brings up the rotten potatoes to Grandma (this all took place as Grandma was out at church/dinner with her friends). When mom tells Grandma that her potatoes were rotten Grandma says,

“Those potatoes were brand new! I just bought them!”

“No, mom, potatoes don’t rot over night, you did not ‘just buy’ them.”

“oh…well they were a buy one get one deal…”

“so you bought two, you don’t even eat potatoes, why would you need two [10 lbs] bags?”

“…, they were new.”


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