Throwing out the olives!

Last night I threw out a jar of olives from the fridge. They were out of date by three years and looked like a science experiment. But it was still hard to throw them out because they were Malc’s. Silly, I suppose, but there you are. Mal paused too, but I said, “You know we can’t keep everything as a souvenir.”  He said, “I know, I know.” And I am pretty sure he was thinking about the one inch of rum left in a bottle that was Malcolm’s, and how he is not ready to drink it or throw it away. But we take baby steps. Yesterday it was olives.

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