"This was the last cutting board that was onion and garlic free!"
"I'm really sorry honey, I'll wash it off right now."
"I knew we had a system but I figured this one was safe because you were cutting potatoes on it."
"No, the non-groove side of the smaller wooden cutting board is the fruit and bread board!"
"I am really sorry honey. . ."
"I just hated as a kid when the banana bread or watermelon tasted like onion because my Mom would cut it on a contaminated board. She said you couldn't taste it but I always could."
"Let me see if I can get the taste out."
"I'll just have to get a new expensive one at Alaska Bowl Company."
"Don't be mad Rachel, I know you've wanted a board from there for a while but don't get back at me by spending money frivolously."
"Holy Cow!" Ingrid piped up from the table. Rachel and I cracked up at Ingrid's new phrase and walked over to the table (onion crisis temporarily forgotten).
"Who did you hear say that?"
"Oh no!" Rachel's grabbed her head a second time. "You have to put a plate under that bottle of dressing, it has already made eight spots on the table!" I quickly snatched up the oily bottle of homemade vinaigrette while Rachel grabbed a plate.
"Bummer." Ingrid said with sage disappointment in her voice. We were laughing too hard to ask her where she learned that one. For the record, the red onion and the salad dressing were my only contributions to tonight's dinner.
After dinner we walked to the mailbox to send some of Ingrid's water colors. Ingrid stuffed her dolly, a flamingo, a stuffed king crab, and that weird dog with bunny ears into her backpack for the walk.
Thanks to the Blacks for the bird and dog. Thanks to the Lights for the crab.