Two weeks ago, a friend of mine gave me friendship bread starter. She had asked me about it previously, and I told her that as much as I valued our friendship that I would actually REALLY APPRECIATE it if she excluded me from her list of recipients for the bread starter. I have only ever had one loaf of bread come into existance from friendship bread starter, and that was probably an accident. I have been given friendship bread starter about 27 times in my short life (stop laughing!) and my record is terrible. One time, I just left the gooey stuff in the trunk of my car until a week later when I realized it was there when I was trying to make room for groceries. I felt bad.
Another time, I took the starter from someone, gave it a massage every day or so for a while and then just threw it away because I knew I would be gone when the time came to do something with it. I threw away a frienship!! I'm so terrible.
This last time, even after begging to not be burdened with trying to prove my friendliness, I was given not one, but TWO bags of the stuff. From the same person! I gasped for air, said thanks, and then took it home with me. Maybe this ONE TIME I could prove to the universe how much of a friend I really am. Well I sure proved what I'm made of.
I took the ziploc bags out of the car sometime the next day (when I remembered they were there) and carefully gave them a squeeze. It was like little hugs for my two bag-friends. We were going to be ok. Then the next day when I realized the instructions were missing, I gave them another hug. It's alright! I could look up the
Pack for camp??
Somewhere between snuggling ooey gooey friendship bread starter in a bag, and packing for camp, I forgot that SOMEONE WOULD NEED TO TAKE CARE OF MY BAG-FRIENDS!
Until just now.
Until I read Farm Suite's post and sat bolt up in my chair, white faced and came to the realization that I am truly, the worst, most awful, biggest loser friend in the UNIVERSE.
I humbly went to my kitchen to retrieve my little dough babies and see how bad of shape they were in. I thought a photo of my sins would help you to forgive me. But no...
They. Were. Not. There.
They were gone!
Did they run away from home? Were they so neglected that they puffed up and blew themselves out of my house?
I believe I know what happened. You see, even my husband sees my faults, but he tends to love me anyway. Bless his heart. He probably used some sort of euthenasia tactic while I was gone this whole last week. I can picture him peering wistfully in the corner where the swollen bags of yeast infested goo sat day after day looking at him. He was probably really ashamed of me. He probably needed to get them out of his life so he wouldn't constantly be reminded of how terrible of a person he married. Oh I hope he disposed of them with dignity and respect. That was a friendship that I left behind, and here he was, left to mop up the evidence of my neglect.
I love my friends, really I do!But please, PLEASE, I beg of you. Do not ever give me friendship bread starter. Or a friendship bracelet. I will surely never make you one in return and then I will be forced to theoretically hang myself with your noose of friendship.