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sparkindarknessBeloved has mangoes.
He likes mangoes (never really seen the attraction myself. I mean their nice and all, but if it was a choice between a mango and 90% of other fruit, I‘ll pass on the mango. It‘s like being mad keen on apples.) and has managed to get fresh mangoes (in November? Well, I suppose - can’t say I know when mangoes grow). This should be a simple and easy thing.
Of course, nothing is ever easy round here.
We knew there was a problem when the knife rebounded. I suggested that maybe, just maybe, the mango may, possibly be SLIGHTLY under ripe and perhaps, JUST PERHAPS, letting it ripen a little may be ideal.
Beloved scoffed mightily at my most unreasonable suggestion and found a SHARPER knife. This snapped. I quickly decided to put 999 on speed dial.
He found a bigger knife... this bounced. I dialled the first 2 9s to be ready as soon as possible
Then things escalated. There were knives all over the kitchen, knives with every kind of blade imaginable lying discarded across the counter. (3 ambulances, a blood bank and a ranting old man screaming from Revelations were already prepared and on standby at this point)
(It should be noted at this point that there was a brief time out while Beloved, obviously becoming quite unreasonable with his frustration, quite unfairly pointed out that losing/breaking ONE knife from a knife block or set shouldn’t really mean that we buy an entire new set or block. I have decided that the Infernal Mango has damaged his brain otherwise he clearly wouldn’t say such silly things. Of course you need a new block - or it wouldn’t have been a SET. This Is Important. Right?)
At some point in the operations Beloved found a large cleaver ... Of course we also both found the rum. It was very nice rum. We may have mixed it with the miscellaneous clear stuff that should have been lemonade but clearly wasn‘t. It MAY have been sambuca. I think it was - but neither of us are actually sure what sambuca IS (in retrospect, it‘s probably not a good idea to drink said unidentified liquid if there is this much uncertainty concerning it. Ah the benefits of sober hindsight).
Of course rum and sharp things shouldn’t go together - but then, alcohol and common sense are rarely companions anyway. (Like common sense has any place in our home). So instead of more *ahem* conventional fruit peeling we had:
Beloved: Chi THUNK del THUNKgit- THUNK -a- THUNK-no i gi- THUNKorni THUNK abel- THUNK -la?
The full chorus. Damn that mango was tough... Why do we use kevlar in bullet proof vests? Why don’t strap a dozen mangos to them? Or would the calypso look not work for the armed forces?
(I’m pretty certain he only did this to prove that both his Italian and his singing voice are better than mine, by the way. Yes yes he did. I shall have to plot revenge.)
Then came the electric carving knife. BUZZZZZZZZZZZ! I believe that at this point several of the standby EMTs fainted
So we have mango. So does the walls and the floor. The cat. The circling emergency services. The neighbours. A large proportion of the town.
It was at this point that Beloved conceded that maybe, just maybe, I could be right about the Mangos. And they may, just MAY, be a tad under ripe. Personally I’m contacting the military, these things could be used to break open tanks!
He likes mangoes (never really seen the attraction myself. I mean their nice and all, but if it was a choice between a mango and 90% of other fruit, I‘ll pass on the mango. It‘s like being mad keen on apples.) and has managed to get fresh mangoes (in November? Well, I suppose - can’t say I know when mangoes grow). This should be a simple and easy thing.
Of course, nothing is ever easy round here.
We knew there was a problem when the knife rebounded. I suggested that maybe, just maybe, the mango may, possibly be SLIGHTLY under ripe and perhaps, JUST PERHAPS, letting it ripen a little may be ideal.
Beloved scoffed mightily at my most unreasonable suggestion and found a SHARPER knife. This snapped. I quickly decided to put 999 on speed dial.
He found a bigger knife... this bounced. I dialled the first 2 9s to be ready as soon as possible
Then things escalated. There were knives all over the kitchen, knives with every kind of blade imaginable lying discarded across the counter. (3 ambulances, a blood bank and a ranting old man screaming from Revelations were already prepared and on standby at this point)
(It should be noted at this point that there was a brief time out while Beloved, obviously becoming quite unreasonable with his frustration, quite unfairly pointed out that losing/breaking ONE knife from a knife block or set shouldn’t really mean that we buy an entire new set or block. I have decided that the Infernal Mango has damaged his brain otherwise he clearly wouldn’t say such silly things. Of course you need a new block - or it wouldn’t have been a SET. This Is Important. Right?)
At some point in the operations Beloved found a large cleaver ... Of course we also both found the rum. It was very nice rum. We may have mixed it with the miscellaneous clear stuff that should have been lemonade but clearly wasn‘t. It MAY have been sambuca. I think it was - but neither of us are actually sure what sambuca IS (in retrospect, it‘s probably not a good idea to drink said unidentified liquid if there is this much uncertainty concerning it. Ah the benefits of sober hindsight).
Of course rum and sharp things shouldn’t go together - but then, alcohol and common sense are rarely companions anyway. (Like common sense has any place in our home). So instead of more *ahem* conventional fruit peeling we had:
Beloved: Chi THUNK del THUNKgit- THUNK -a- THUNK-no i gi- THUNKorni THUNK abel- THUNK -la?
The full chorus. Damn that mango was tough... Why do we use kevlar in bullet proof vests? Why don’t strap a dozen mangos to them? Or would the calypso look not work for the armed forces?
(I’m pretty certain he only did this to prove that both his Italian and his singing voice are better than mine, by the way. Yes yes he did. I shall have to plot revenge.)
Then came the electric carving knife. BUZZZZZZZZZZZ! I believe that at this point several of the standby EMTs fainted
So we have mango. So does the walls and the floor. The cat. The circling emergency services. The neighbours. A large proportion of the town.
It was at this point that Beloved conceded that maybe, just maybe, I could be right about the Mangos. And they may, just MAY, be a tad under ripe. Personally I’m contacting the military, these things could be used to break open tanks!