Guacamole or better "God make me Guacamole"

Blondie was complaining last night that I turned this blog into a bunch of posts about politics. And she is right. Who cares anyway about politicians? In my eyes they are all the same.

So let me just try to go back to the topics of daily routine with unexpected moments that you all liked before.

First things first. If you ever hear of a movie called "Dogtooth" and you read the very good reviews online, make yourself a favor and do not watch it. You will not waste 1.30 hours of your life. Unless you are an artistic person, who likes to read between the lines and make scenarios out of nowhere.

It was the kind of movie that you keep watching because you have heard so many good things about it and you wait until the end..and when the end comes you are like "What the f***? This is it?"

Anyway, let me share with you the guacamole story now.

Blondie calls me on her way from work announcing to me that she will go buy avocados to make Guacamole to take to our koumparous house where we were invited for the night.

My first reaction was the usual one.."you don't need to make it, there will be a lot of food, blah blah blah".

So next thing I know is Blondie coming home with 4 avocados (2 were not enough) and she starts making the guacamole.

But guess what? The avocados are not ripe, the guacamole will not be a success because we cannot mix it. But wait, in our house there is always a solution for everything. So they put it in the mixer only to create something liquid, a substance which I am thinking right now and I get disgusted. I even had the guts to try it by the way.

So cutting the story short, I went down to the grass, played with the dogs and the boys and I went up, only to find the guacamole (or the attempt of the guacamole) sitting in the kitchen. Here is the conversation that follows:

Me: "Why didn't you throw this away?"

Blondie: "Somebody might eat it"

Me: "Are you kidding me? Somebody will eat that stuff?"

Blondie: "Your dad might eat it"

(At this point I take the bowl of "God make me Guacamole" to throw it away).

Like a synchronised musical opera, Blondie and my grandma yell at me "Nooooooooo".

I give up, I go up, get ready, go down after 45 minutes. I say goodnight to parents and I try to get out of the door.

Mum yells my name and I stop. She asks if I want the guacamole. I reply that we don't want it, but transferring Blondie's thoughts, I tell her that my dad might want to eat it. My dad replies that the "God make me Guacamole" cannot be eaten because it is tasteless.

I walk out of the door, with one thought in my mind.

- Next time you want to do something, just do it without asking -. I am sure that if I had thrown the guacamole away nobody would have even noticed.