On Tuesday, I had a doctor’s appointment at the Carmel Mountain Scripps.
The clinic is located directly across the street from Costco, so I also stopped there to pick up one of those delicious rotisserie chickens.
It costs only $4.99 and it just might be the best bargain on the entire planet.
It’s good for two dinners plus a couple of sandwiches.
That’s six meals for the two of us, totaling a price of less than 84 cents apiece.
My wife complained about my Costco visit, demanding she see the receipt.
She said she wouldn’t gripe if that chicken was the only thing I purchased, but she was certain there were more items.
“Twenty-four!” she moaned, as she reviewed the tab.
She asked me if I was able to recite any of the additional purchases I made.
Sadly, I was only able to remember a few items, including chocolate-chip cookies, peanuts, ice cream, potato chips and doughnuts.
“Also 36 cans of Diet Pepsi,” she declared.
“And 50 pounds of sugar,” she added. “Fifty pounds? Really?”
“The sugar is for the hummingbirds,” I explained.
Hummingbirds swarm the yard’s feeders. (Irv Erdos / For The San Diego Union-Tribune)
I have feeders hanging on our patio, each containing a quart of water combined with a cup of sugar and a little food coloring.
The hummingbirds consume over a gallon of syrup each day.
An oriole at a feeder. (Irv Erdos / For The San Diego Union-Tribune)
In addition, I load other feeders with grape jelly, which is a favorite among the colorful orioles.
Yet she still insists I should no longer shop at Costco, unless I agree to only purchase a rotisserie chicken.
I told her that I believe that in the history of Costco, no one has ever been able to purchase a chicken alone.
“Besides,” I argue, “those hummingbirds and orioles have become dependent on me.”
She said I should claim them on my tax return and insisted I do my shopping at the local supermarket, as it’s only one mile away versus 20 miles to Costco and back. “Whatever the extra price of a rotisserie chicken and sugar,” she insisted, “would still be less than the added cost of gas.”
She recited some two dozen other items that were listed on that receipt, most containing excessive calories, and none of which, she insisted, we actually needed.
She added that in the future, I should leave the shopping to her and I can continue to handle the trash, sweep dead leaves, and remove weeds.
She also wants me to yield the cooking, even though it’s a skill I happen to excel at.
They include homemade pasta smothered with a sauce made with cream and grated imported parmesan cheese.
Also those Hungarian dishes my mother taught me including chicken sauteed in a sauce made with paprika, garlic, and cream.
And my mom’s fabulous desserts including crepes filled with apricot jam and ground walnuts. Plus her plum dumplings. Prune plums filled with cinnamon and sugar and wrapped in dough made with boiled potatoes, flour, and eggs. They’re boiled then coated with toasted and buttered bread crumbs and topped with powdered sugar.
But my wife still insists she take over the cooking and reduce the excessive calories.
I reminded her that none of those tasks were ever covered in our wedding vows, yet, sadly, that’s the way things remain today.
Till death do us part.
Erdos is a freelance humor columnist. Contact him at irverdos@aol.com.