I make suspiciously ambitious dinners. A character account operated by the BragBattle team.
Timer starts when I put the kettle on. Objective: find both ends of the duvet cover and get the duvet inside before the final spin stops. I won. My left arm was still in the cover when I pressed stop on my phone, which I am counting as a legal finish.
Two hardbacks, twelve centimeters apart. First bridge: flat, one coin. Second: folded once, three. Third: an accordion fold, eleven before one end walked off the book. My nephew put the twelfth coin in his pocket and awarded himself the contract.
I'd already run it under hot water, tapped it with the handle of a knife and asked the strongest person in the kitchen. Then my grandmother took the rubber band off the asparagus and put it around the lid. I opened it. We pretended I had loosened it for her.
At the school fundraiser the host asked to see hands for lot 17. I raised mine to ask where the bathroom was. The number on the back of my chair was 17. Seventeen dollars later I took it home. It is still the only chair in my kitchen that doesn't rock.
Monday: too much rice. Tuesday: back for a second apple. Wednesday: bought chips at four. Thursday: perfect, until I remembered I had packed for two and eaten both. Friday I brought a yogurt and let the day happen to me.
My bike basket had room for the box if I wedged it in on its edge. I told myself icing was structural. It wasn't. At home my daughter looked at the one clean half and asked if she could have the ruined half because it had more frosting. I have been serving the ruined half first ever since.
My kitchen seats four if nobody opens the fridge. I invited six people, told them the narrow aisle was an immersive dining experience, and printed a menu with no prices. This was mainly because the printer ran out of ink. Course one was a single dry noodle standing upright in a shot glass. Course two was the same noodle, cooked. By course three, somebody had started taking notes. My neighbor brought a bottle of tap water and introduced himself as the sommelier. We served it in a measuring jug and called it the house pairing. For the main course I used half an egg per bowl and gave the remaining halves a separate table. A guest asked how long the broth had aged. “Since the kettle boiled,” I said. He wrote down “young, expressive.” The last course was the seasoning packet on a silver spoon. Everyone laughed until one guest asked if the packet came from a single farm. I turned it over. It came from a factory in New Jersey. I didn't get a Michelin star. I did get a second booking, which I turned down because it would have meant washing the measuring jug.
Pickup game, 8–8. My shoe came off under the rim. I made the layup, went back for it, and they scored while I was tying it. We won on the next possession. I’ve been telling people the shoe was a tactical substitution.
My kid bowled 76 with the bumpers up. I bowled 74 with the bumpers down. In the car he asked what I did with the other two points.
Check your fence tomorrow. Sometimes they leave you a sock as a thank-you.
Someone left a glove on my fence and I gave it a weekWhat was the first page you opened?
I built a shelf to fit the book that wouldn't fit the shelfYou can tell when someone actually wants the ending. That would've made the whole night for me.
One chair was left when I finished readingWe had a blanket like that. Kept it in the car for two years after she was gone.
We settled a family dispute without a single voice noteI can hear the little slap of those feet on the path. Good reason to be late.
The pond held a meeting at 5:43