“Well, that took
forever.” I grumbled as I lifted the eight bags of groceries
hanging from my arms, and placed them on the counter.
“Are they're any
more in the car?” Steven asked as he headed for the front door.
“Nope.” I
rubbed the spots where the bags had dug into my arms. “You know me,
only one trip into the house with the bags, even if it's enough
groceries to fill a shopping cart.” I began the unloading.
“Why did you say
it took forever?” Steven took the pasta boxes and placed them in
the cabinet.
“Because nothing
inspired me.” I put the milk in the refrigerator. “I must have
walked back and fourth in front of the meat counter twenty times and
nothing, I mean nothing, called out to me. How many times can I make
chicken, beef, pork or pasta? I was looking for something different.”
I placed the bag of fresh spinach on the counter. “We can leave
this out, I'm going to be using it.”
“Oh, fresh
spinach, that's a good start.” Steven reached into another bag and
pulled out a pound of hamburger meat and placed it on the counter.
“So I see you gave up and we're going to be having hamburgers?”
I smiled as I
grabbed my phone and pulled up the site I'd been on. “We're going
to have Swedish meatballs!” I showed him the recipe I'd found.
“Swedish
meatballs!” Steven started to laugh. “What made you think of
them?”
“Well...while I
was wandering back and forth in front of the meat counter, waiting
for inspiration to strike, I started to think about the matching
bedside tables I'd like to get.”
“Wait, what?”
Steven looked over at me, a confused look on his face.
“Oh, come on.”
I began stacking the yogurts on a shelf in the refrigerator. “We've
had mis-matched bedside table for years. It looks stupid.” I
complained.
“This is the
first time I'm hearing about this.”
“That's because
you don't even see it anymore.” I took the hamburger meat from him.
“So when I was thinking about the furniture I thought about IKEA
and that led me to their Swedish meatballs.” I turned around a big
smile on my face. “And that, my friend, led me to our dinner!”
Steven shrugged his
shoulders. “I haven't had Swedish meatballs in years.”
“I know!” I
took the bag of noodles and placed them next to the spinach. “Who
doesn’t like Ikea’s Swedish meatballs!”
Alex walked into
the room. “Did I hear someone say something about dinner?”
“We're having
Swedish meatballs.” Steven said as he put the last of the groceries
away.
Alex looked
confused. “I don't think I've ever had them before.”
“What?” I
turned around and looked at him. “We've never taken you to IKEA?”
I looked over at Steven. “How could that be?”
Steven started to
laugh, “Remember about twenty years ago when we got the kids
furniture there and it took me hours and hours to put it all
together?”
I tried to think
back that far. “Kind of.” I finally said.
“I swore then
that I'd never buy any furniture that I had to put together.”
“So it's been
over twenty years since we've been there?” I was truly surprised.
“It's kind of funny that I don't remember the furniture but I
remember their meatballs.” I had to smile as I looked at Alex.
“Just wait until you taste these.”
Alex didn't look
convinced. “Sure,” He shook his head and started to laugh,
“Furniture store meatballs, who wouldn't love them.”
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