Captain’s Log – 020321 – Where’s the Shrimp?

In some of my previous posts I may have been somewhat less than ebullient about the Navigator’s navigational skills.  My opinions were shaped by direct observations amplified by her strenuous and often profane confutations of my delicately worded reproaches.  Her multitudinous mutinous attempted resignations may also have played a role.  She might not be able to find her way around the block but she has other amazing skills. 

The Navigator’s greatest skill is her ability to make something wonderful out of nothing.  Things were not always so smooth and comfortable for us.  We raised 4 children while working jobs so we had our fair share of difficult times.  We frequently worked conflicting schedules and occasionally some household duties went unattended.  There were even a few years, while I was finishing college, that we were stretched almost to the breaking point.  But we prevailed. 

One of the most frequently overlooked duties was grocery shopping.  It was something that needed to be done but our aberrant work schedules made it difficult.  It was during some of the leanest times, when the refrigerator barely contained a slice of American cheese, a box of baking soda, and a celery stick, that the Navigator performed her most miraculous feats.  Somehow, within 15 minutes, she would prepare a feast fit for a king apparently out of thin air.  Do not ask me why, and she would never admit it, but I suspect it involved some of our neighbors’ pets.  Everything she made was delicious, especially the Fifi Flambé, which I believe was procured four doors away. 

Last year was pretty rough for the whole world.  It was rough for us too as my mother-in-law moved in with us during the middle of the year.  There were some hairy legal issues involving her house and it was best she moved in with us. 

My mother-in-law is an unfiltered and undiluted version of the Navigator.  Whenever a thought, no matter how outrageous or disturbing, enters her mind, it issues from her mouth, untarnished by any form of reason.  She hails from a clearing in the woods in Holguin, one of the eastern provinces in Cuba, where the rural residents were known colloquially as “guajiros”. They are strong, hard-working, and very independent. 

My mother-in-law’s mentality is reminiscent of those people who decided to burn down their own town rather than let the Spanish army conquer it.  They fought against the Spanish soldiers sometimes armed with only machetes.  In a guajiro’s hands, a machete was a formidable weapon.  My mother-in-law’s idea of a good time was stealing a neighbor’s goat, making a stew with it, and inviting the neighbor to dinner.  I believe the Navigator may have learned a few of her culinary tricks from my mother-in-law. 

Please do not misunderstand, I love my mother-in-law.  I think she likes me too because she sometimes smiles at me – which is a little unnerving.  I am not completely sure if she is just being friendly or imagining me in a stew.  I hope it is the former.  If I ever wanted to start a war and needed to recruit soldiers, she would be my first pick.  She is 92 years old now but I think she would love the opportunity to slice and dice the enemy with her machete again.  

She is very hard of hearing so when we watch television, she does not always follow the plot but she does not seem to mind.  If a character gets arrested, she will exclaim loudly, “Se jodió”, which means, “He got screwed”.  If there is a car crash, she shouts, “Se jodieron”, which means, “They got screwed”.  If the power goes out, she shouts, “Nos jodimos”, which means, “We are screwed”.  She is very entertaining. 

The pandemic is the cause of a nationwide 83% increase in cases of acute cabin fever.  This number was pulled out of thin air but I believe it to be accurate and it is not up for debate.  It is settled science.  Except for the brief excursions to purchase sustenance at the supermarket, or to conduct frenzied raids to Frankie’s Pizza, we are enfolded within our four walls.  There is only so much television we can watch and only so much “jodedera”, which means, “screwing”, we can take.  At some point, the crushing boredom can only be abated by food, enough to make us sleepy.  So my COVID-19 became more like COVID-39 and my baggy shorts became less baggy. 

A couple of weeks ago I got tired of rolling out of bed, literally, and decided enough was enough.  I announced I would regain a healthy physique by consuming a low carbohydrate diet and incorporating low impact exercises.  To my amazement, the Navigator rolled over and said she would do the same thing.  I was ecstatic so we celebrated with chicken wings, French fries, and a pitcher of beer.  Neither of us ever said we would start immediately. 

We began our new way of eating and since then I have dropped 12 pounds and the Navigator dropped 6.  Our inflammation is noticeably reduced and I am no longer snoring (wish I could say the same for my little foghorn Navigator – don’t worry, she will never read this).  I am following a mild fasting regimen where I will eat breakfast and a very early dinner then nothing until the next day.  The Navigator still eats 3 times a day but they are small supportive meals.  She keeps my mother-in-law company when they eat.  Our clothes are fitting better and we have set challenging but realistic daily weight loss goals for the remainder of the year.  We even track our progress on spreadsheets. 

Today, the Navigator decided she would prepare a pound of shrimp for dinner.  We purchased the shrimp yesterday at our local Publix and wanted to enjoy it while it was still fresh.  The Navigator tasked me to find a low carb recipe for shrimp and I was in the midst of evaluating several options when she asked me to find an electric lift recliner for my mother-in-law.  She also asked, since I was already looking for a recliner, to see if I could find a reclining love seat for our Florida Room. 

Well, a Captain can only go one direction at a time otherwise the vessel will disintegrate.  I felt it would be better if the Navigator sat with me and reviewed the various and sundry items of furniture that failed to excite even the slightest bit of interest for me.  She sat in my office until the matter of the furniture was settled and we found a tasty, low carb recipe for shrimp dip. 

I was two minutes into a YouTube video of Fleetwood Mac when the Navigator called out, “Papa, where’s the shrimp?”

I responded, “What do you mean where’s the shrimp?”

“I took it out of the refrigerator before I went to your office.”

“So where is it?”

“I can’t find it.”

“How the hell do you lose a pound of shrimp?”

“I don’t know.  Is it there?”

“Of course not.”

“Are you sure?  Did you look?”

“I’m sitting in my %!#$&^* office and there is no %!#$&^* shrimp here!”

“Help me find it.” 

“How the %!#$&^* would I know where you put the shrimp?” 

“Just help me find it.”

I looked around my office and the %!#$&^* shrimp were nowhere to be found.  I shouted to the Navigator that my office was clean so she replied, “Are you sure?”

“What, do you think I’m an idiot?  Of course I’m sure!”

“I’m coming to check.”

After looking through my office she said, “It’s not here.  Where did I put it?”  I did not respond because it would have been an unsupportive comment so I went to the adjoining room and the shrimp was not there either.  I asked her what the package of shrimp looked like.  She said it was wrapped in white wrapping paper with a label affixed to it. 

We looked in the bathrooms, the bedrooms, the closets, the garage, inside the Corvettes, the backyard, the laundry hampers, and the garbage cans.  She asked, “What happens if we don’t find the shrimp?”

“It’ll turn up in a couple of days when the whole %!#$&^* house smells like rotten shrimp!  How do you lose a pound of shrimp?  Did you check the refrigerator?”

“Yes, I’m not an idiot!” 

I checked the refrigerator but did not see any white wrapper with an affixed label.  The Navigator looked again and also found nothing.  My mother-in-law saw the commotion and asked what was going on.  The Navigator told her she had lost a pound of shrimp.  My mother-in-law exclaimed, “Se jodieron”, which means “You’re screwed”. 

Frustrated, I asked the Navigator, “So now that the shrimp is gone what are we having for dinner?”  She gave a look like one countless Spanish soldiers saw before they were sliced and diced over a century ago.  She reached inside the refrigerator and pulled out a brown Publix bag and said, “Look what I found.”

“What is it?”

“The shrimp.” 

I did not say a word.  She said, “You idiot.” 

As the Navigator prepared dinner, I watched television with my mother-in-law.  We put on a Spanish news station with subtitles so she might understand a little more of what was going on.  She exclaimed, “Quieren joder al ruso”, which means, “They want to screw the Russian”, referring to Vladimir Putin.  Just as she uttered the words a huge flash lit up the room.  I turned around and saw something flaming inside the microwave.  The Navigator quickly opened the door and removed a bowl containing a flaming package of butter.  The butter was still in its green foil wrapping.  I asked very politely, “Are you %!#$&^* crazy?” 

“I didn’t know the foil was metal.”

<intense look to see if the Navigator was having a stroke or intentionally pulling my leg>

“You burned the butter?”

“No, it’s not even melted all the way.  It’s still good.”

My mother-in-law asked what had happened.  I explained how the Navigator had put metal into the microwave and it caught fire.  She replied, “Que jodienda”, which means, “What a screwup.” 

I can’t take much more of this.