“Noodling around” is defined as “the act of doing things for no purpose other than entertaining yourself and/or others.” And Ol' Dutch is certainly an expert on that.
But with my time in Idaho with No. 1 daughter Cricket coming to a close, somehow the topic of homemade noodles came up and before you could say lickety split Ol' Dutch was volunteered to make them for the crew.
Now normally I don't mind cooking and grilling and using a smoker is one of my favorite things to do actually, but this came at a bad time for me. You see, for the last two days I had been fighting sewer troubles and my normally cranky disposition became even more severe with each passing -- or shall we say “not passing” -- day. Ol Dutch was plumb pooped out.
Only I could blend toilet troubles and a meal but if you think about it the two are connected at the end of a very long colon.
I did wash my hands well before starting the process of making noodles and soon I was up to my oodles in noodles.
Trixie got the chicken to boiling into a nice broth and soon it was time to drop those plump yellow noodles into the flavorful mixture.
Like I said, Ol' Dutch doesn’t mind helping out in the cooking department when asked but I have begun to notice something peculiar about that situation and last night brought it out to the forefront of relationship problems to avoid.
Now Ol' Dutch has been making noodles long before Miss Trixie was even a thought in her parents’ minds but it appears that somehow I was “doing it wrong.” The more “wrong” I did it the more heated the conversation became until a divorce was imminent. It was that bad and we are not even married.
To further let you know the seriousness of the conflict, the danger of separation of powers was close to the boiling point just like that pot of noodles.
Finally having what is known as “enough” in a man’s world, I threw up my hands and left the kitchen. For most of you this is what is known as “smart” as you get out of the chore at hand but when you live in an RV there is no escape as I now had to endure the continued chatter about the noodles across the counter top.
The conversation turned to what a fine job I had done which in Trixie's world is called “working the crowd” which is meant to get me back in there to finish the job.
Now I know most of you out there can relate to some of this story as I know you have at least eaten noodles if nothing else. The rest can maybe learn a thing or two about relationships and how men need encouragement and not criticism when they are undertaking a not so favorite activity.
My suggestion to anyone wishing to “noodle around” later is that you go out to eat at your favorite restaurant. That has to be cheaper than a divorce.