PLEASE DON'T JUDGE

It was late at night and I was leaned up against the kitchen counter with a container of potato salad in one hand and a spoon in the other.

Steven walked in and turned on the kitchen light. “Why are you standing here in the dark?”

“I'm not in the dark.” I pointed the spoon to the nightlight next to the sink. “This gives me enough light to see what I need to see.”

“Why are you up so late?” he asked looking at the clock on the stove. “It's 2:30 in the morning.”

“The potato salad was calling out to me.” I finished licking the spoon and dropped it in the sink. I put the lid back on the container and placed it on the counter.

Potato salad was one of the things I didn't like to make myself, because I thought it was way too much work for a simple side dish. I also didn't like many store bought potato salads. But there was one local store that made salads to go with their rotisserie chickens. I loved their salads! My whole family did! That's why there's rarely any leftover. So, I really couldn't understand why he was questioning why I was up.

“Aren't you going to put that back in the fridge?”

“Not yet. I have to wait and see if that was the last bite.”

Steven looked confused. “Than why did you throw your spoon in the sink?”

Now I looked confused. “Because I can't stick a spoon in the container that I've already licked! That would be disgusting!”

“Than why don't you just put some on a plate and not eat out of the container?”

“Because...” I was getting tired of explaining. “That would mean I'd have several scoops on a plate and I'd have to eat all of it.” I tipped my head to the container sitting on the counter. “This way I can wait and see if I'm full after the one scoop.”

Steven shrugged his shoulders and shook his head as he opened the cabinet and took out a plate. “I'll show you how to eat leftover potato salad.” He opened the silverware drawer. “We're out of spoons?”

“We are?” I peeked in over his shoulder. “Wow! I guess we are.”

He opened the dishwasher. “Is this clean or dirty?”

“Dirty.”

There must have been a guilty look on my face because Steven walked past me to look in the sink. “There must be a half a dozen spoons in here!”

“Please don't judge me.” I hung my head in shame. “You know how much I love this potato salad.”

Steven put his plate back in the cabinet then reached in the silverware drawer and took out two forks. Handing one to me he took the container off the counter popped opened the lid and held it out to me.

“We can share the last of it.”

I had to smile as I stabbed a potato chunk with my fork. “I love that you get me!”