Rations

I have to admit, I don't know a ton about cooking, but what little I do know, I learned from my mom. And my mom was an expert at cooking so that we would be able to make another meal of it. Naturally, then, when I got home from my last grocery shopping trip, I cut up and froze the chicken I had bought. I put three pieces in each bag, two to eat right then and one to put in the fridge for later.

One night, Ben and I got out the chicken and cut it up into little pieces. Ben then cooked it in just a little bit of oil over the stove. That's our favorite way to eat chicken. When he was finished, we put some of it into a casserole I was making. Then Ben started eating it straight out of the pan with a fork.

"What are you doing?" I asked, glancing at him while I scooped the casserole into a pan.

"Eating chicken," he said. I, of course, had already deduced this. When I had asked him what he was doing, what I really meant was, I don't actually want you to do what you are currently doing.

"Okay," I said, compromising. "Just don't eat all of it."

"I'll save some for you," he said.

"Okay," I agreed. "But I also want to put some of it in the fridge for later."

"Why?"

"Leftovers," I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Leftovers?" He asked, shaking his head. "That isn't leftovers. It's rations."

I laughed. "Yes huh. I put extra chicken in the bag for that exact purpose."

"Charly," he said, putting on his most serious face. "Leftovers is when you eat all you want and whatever is leftover you put in the fridge. This is rations."

"Benjamin!" I said exasperatedly. I was mostly joking. "I just want to save some chicken for another meal." I started towards the pan with a container in hand. Benjamin was still standing next to it, a piece of chicken stabbed onto his fork. He grabbed the handle of the pan and started moving away from me. I followed him and we started moving more quickly around the island counter top.

"Benjamin," I said again, my tone less of a joke now. "If we put this in the fridge, then we can eat it tomorrow, or I can put it in something else."

"Charly, do you know how much protein I need?" he asked.

I faltered. "No."

"A lot. Besides, look at this chicken. There isn't even enough left to make it worth saving."

"Thanks to you," I pointed out with a laugh. He shrugged, giving me his I-just-won-and-I-know-it face. I rolled my eyes.

"Fine," I set the container on the counter and stabbed a piece of chicken with my fork.

"Trying to put me on rations," Benjamin said, shaking his head as he set the pan back down.

"Benjamin!" I said again. He grinned at me as I popped a piece of chicken into my mouth.