Grilled Carrots

I was secretly trying to clean out my grandpa’s refrigerator when he busted in on me like a soldier rolling out of the trenches under enemy fire.  “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to a bag of rotting salad mix in my hand.

My hand was grasping the bag of lettuce awkwardly above the trashcan.  What could I possibly say to make this situation better, except maybe that I was digging it out of the trash for some reason.  Maybe that he had surprised me and I had turned the wrong way?  Or that it fell in while I was making lunch?  Except that that is absurd because the trashcan is wedged between the fridge and the stove, no where near a sandwich/salad preparation station.

I was caught, red handed, trying to rid the world of unused rotten greens and fully mummified fruit.  Truth be told, I crumbled under pressure.  “It’s kinda old Grandpa.  See?”  I opened the bag for him to see.  “And you have this other bag here in the fridge that is open that needs to be eaten.”

“That is not old!”  he argued, “I just bought that the other day at the store that I like to go to!”

“Grandpa, the lettuce is all mushy and the carrots are turning black!”

“The lettuce is like that because of the salad dressing!” he fought back, “And carrots have spots like that.  That’s from being cooked on the grill.”  He pointed at the stove as if to say that is where they carrots had been “grilled” earlier that day.

“Alright Grandpa,” I sighed, placing the bag back on the shelf, cringing at the brown liquefied lettuce “dressing”.  “I’ll put it back.  But you have to eat it soon!”

He seemed satisfied as he looked into the trashcan, as if to ensure that none of the lettuce leaves had fallen in during the argument.  Thankfully I had buried the week old lamb chop and a 6 month old jar of applesauce that I had thrown out THREE times.  Better judgment had encouraged me to dump the applesauce down the drain this time and then hide the evidence under some paper towels and dust rags.

In the end, I won this fight.  As Grandpa went back into the living room to watch “48 Hours”, I quietly dumped the lettuce down the garbage disposal and filled the empty bag with newer lettuce from the second bag in the fridge.  He’ll never notice.  At least not unless he really likes those “grilled” carrots.