Amuse bouche... Jar wars

‘Would you like a cup of tea?” Ed asked.

“Thanks,” said Siobhan, “but I won’t be able to hold it. My hand stinks of vinegar and Cif.”

“Nice,” said Ed. “I could hold the cup up to your mouth, or give you a straw.”

“Thanks,” said Siobhan, “but I’m not that desperate yet.”

“Is there a logic to this?” said Ed, surveying the cupboard she had emptied of its contents and was now scrubbing.

There was a row of bottles on the draining board, as well as more bottles and jars in a box on the floor by Siobhan’s feet.

“Everything in the box is to go,” said Siobhan.

Ed looked into the box.

“No looking,” said Siobhan, sharply.

“Jesus, OK,” said Ed.“Why?” “Because what’s in the box is going, no arguments,” said Siobhan. “The kids already stuck their beaks in and saved some ancient sprinkles, before they shagged off back to their screens and abandoned the sprinkles somewhere for me to find later.”

“OK,” said Ed. “Sorry.

You’re doing a great job.”

“Don’t be nice,” said

Siobhan, “or I’ll start crying. I should be at yoga now and buying a flat white after, from a cafe, not clearing out the fecking condiments cupboard. How did we end up with a full condiments cupboard anyway?”

“Oh look,” said Ed, “the hot-dog pickle. The chopped-up one, like you get on

New York hot-dog stands.

You can’t throw that away.”

“Don’t even touch it,” said Siobhan, so sharply that Ed froze. “It’s going.”

“But it’s really good,” said Ed.

“But it’s really best-before 2015,” said Siobhan.

“Oh. But the black-bean chilli oil? That was expensive,” said Ed. “It’s made in small batches.”

“It was made two years ago,” said Siobhan. “It’s going.”

“Fair enough,” said Ed, who now sounded as defeated as Siobhan felt. “But what’s with the bottles on the draining board?”

“They’re cider vinegar,” said Siobhan. “I used to take it first thing in the morning.”

“Or didn’t,” said Ed, counting five fairly full bottles. “What’s happening with it?”

“I’ve to check each one to see if it’s gone off,” said Siobhan.

“What, like drink it?” said Ed. “That seems like a self-punishment too far to me. Just bin it.”

“No,” said Siobhan, “Maybe it’ll teach me not to be so wasteful in future.”

“That’s a bit harsh,” said Ed. “I think you need that tea. Or I could attempt a flat white.”

“OK,” said Siobhan, starting to cry quietly. “And I’ll take the offer of the straw.”