December fourth Bill and I celebrated our thirtieth wedding anniversary. Invariably we recall a few of our most memorable moments. Often they are stored under the heading “Bad Boy Bill Stories”. (Believe me when I say, “I could write a book!”)
Twelve years ago Bill mentioned that he’d like me to make “that really good cranberry sauce”. I checked the fridge and the cupboards. I announced, “You go to the store and bring home one orange, then I have everything I need to make the cranberry sauce.” He travelled the four kilometres to the store, bought stuff and returned. Bill had purchased several items. I unloaded the grocery bags and found one piece of fruit. At first glance I wasn’t quite sure if it were an orange or not. It was a bit large and a bit dull in colour. I cut into it and learned that it was a smallish relative of the grapefruit family. “Bill, this is not an orange.”
He commented, “Use it in the recipe.”
You can imagine my reply. The non-insulting version is: “William, go back to the store and buy an orange. I’m not substituting this grapefruit-thing.”
There was a short debate. I had logic on my side. He left, returned and placed the plastic grocery bag on the counter. This piece of fruit was a bit larger than an orange and the colour was duller. I opened the fruit and it was not an orange.
“William, go back to the store. This time find someone who works there and ask for help picking out an orange.”
He left. He returned. The fruit was the size of an orange. The fruit was the colour of an orange. (Walks like a duck. Quacks like a duck…)
I happily cut up the orange and created Bill’s favourite cranberry sauce.
