Who Ate My Ginger?

It wouldn't have been Bob.

Just like sometimes I forget a word, punch line of a joke and the odd appointments, this afternoon I came home to have a hot ginger, lemon and honey tea when the ginger wasn't there. Had I put it in the fridge when my mind was somewhere else?

Honestly, for about a minute I thought back to all my culinary feasts over the last few days and surely I couldn't have used up all this ginger? Bob would have vehemently protested as he abhors ginger in food. It doesn't matter how small I chop it to try and sneak it in, he always ends up getting the one piece of recognizable ginger on his plate and then has the audacity to accuse me of deliberately trying to infiltrate ginger...So much for wanting to keep him healthy and so much for him seeing through me!

Our lives are so jolly stressful that our minds are overheating most of the time. We have to keep track of so many threads around our periphery that it is exhausting. Add the burden of having to uphold online activities and it is no wonder that we tend to be forgetful. Luckily Bob and I haven't been lured into the valley of Whatsapp because those devotees are constantly holding a few separate strings of conversation afloat on it.

I can imagine that it must feel as if one was sitting around a big table and one had to have riveting verbal exchanges ( impressing others is hard work and most of what social media is about ) with the person on the left, right and opposite one, and each conversation on a totally different topic. Add a dose of Instagram and a perusal of Facebook and the plot thickens...is it any wonder that most of us are unable to pay attention to the real people right under our noses?

As for the ginger, it will turn up eventually either in Maus's favourite hiding place or as I suspect, in the dustbin, where you know who might have thrown it...

Biggi