The spousal unit was packing his lunch this morning when he noticed that the squash population on our kitchen counter has doubled.

"You thought that squash needed a brother or something?" he asked, staring significantly at the yellow squash which was sitting beside the new green one.

Some mornings the man can be incredibly snarky, especially considering that I am his only church and state sanctioned Source of Marital Duties. You might think that would factor importantly into our day-to-day dealings with each other, but you would be so very, very wrong.

Sadly, years ago he glommed on to the fact that I consider cessation of the marital duties as much of a hardship as he does. I know. It's supposed to be The Big Secret, only handed down from mother to daughter. You can well imagine my horror when I realized he had figured The Big Secret out.

Over the years I've ... I've worked through the pain, and I'm surprisingly philosophical about the situation. I won't pretend, though, that I don't miss the days when my snits held some power instead of being the pathetic, toothless snits they are today.

Darn my waning powers.

The yellow squash has been sitting on our counter since a few days before Thanksgiving. Yes, you read that right, Thanksgiving. I bought it with the intent to make it for the Thanksgiving Dinner, but my mom-in-law beat me to it, and already had a squash dish in the works.

I promised myself I would cook the squash within the week following Thanksgiving.

It's still sitting on the counter. Now there are two.

The problem here is that I like the Idea of Squash. I like it a lot. It's healthy. It tastes good. It looks good on the plate. It seems the perfect dish to eat on a fall day like today, especially after an early morning walk in the crisp air, admiring the dusting of snow that caps the tops of the mountains across the valley.

I am less keen about the reality of squash, which involves chopping through heavy skins, peeling, scooping out seeds, boiling or baking, and then seasoning and mashing.

Eating Squash Is Good.

Cooking Squash Takes Effort.

I have been waiting for The Squash Fairy to appear and magically take over the preparation of the squash. Sadly, she seems to have missed this house. From the snarkiness of the spousal unit's observations this morning about the accumulation of squash goodness on our counter, it appears I may have to take matters into my own hands this afternoon and cook the yellow squash all by myself without any magical intervention at all.

Drat.

--Marn

P.S.--The International Cavorting Day Hall of Fame is open. You, too, could be part of an institution that's just like the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame except that it doesn't involve music, Ohio, talent or an actual building.

Otherwise, they are remarkably alike.

Celebrate the notion that we should all have one day in our lives when we are free to celebrate a jolt of spontaneous happiness.

Post a button or post a link to the cavorting site and become enshrined! See yourself right up there on the screen!

Make a rubbing of your name!

Oh. Wait. Maybe that last bit wouldn't work. Nevermind that part, 'kay?

Today's inductee into the Hall o' Fame, Potential Winner of The Semi-Sacred Cavorting Prize Fundraising Chocolate Bar Which Has Lived In the Vegetable Keeper Of My Refrigerator For At Least Two Weeks are:

Against all odds, the Semi-Sacred Cavorting Price Fundraising Chocolate Bar Which Has Lived In The Vegetable Keeper For At Least Two Weeks made it through yet another night. Today it is pictured with The Winnipeg Free Press.