Yesterday I went digging through my “Random Stuff” kitchen drawer, looking for some obscure item so random and rarely used, I had to dig deep into the back of the drawer to find it.
You probably have a drawer like that, although maybe you use a different word than “stuff” to describe what’s in there. So do I, but this is a family newspaper, so “stuff” it shall be.
Some of the stuff is easy to find at the front of the drawer because I use them on a semi-regular basis, like the potato peeler, garlic press, bottle opener, corkscrew, can opener, potato masher, and meat thermometer.
Behind those items, a bit farther back, are items I use more rarely, like that turkey baster, boiled-egg slicer, and child’s birthday candles. And, of course, the dozens of replacement corkscrews, bottle openers, potato peelers and garlic presses, in case any of my starting lineup get misplaced or broken.
But yesterday I pulled the drawer way out, looking for that rare random thing. Whatever it was, I’ve forgotten, because what I found way back there was far more fascinating and mysterious.
What I found was a gaggle of bread clips. You know, those little oddly shaped plastic tabs that come on a loaf of bread.
And I’m sure you know how maddening it can be when you open up a loaf of bread, toss a slice or two in the toaster, do your thing with the butter or jam — and then try to find that elusive little clip to seal up the bread again before it mummifies in the open air.
But…no clip! It’s gone, vanished into thin air! Where could it possibly be?
Your toast is getting cold, so you just twist the plastic bread wrapper tightly and tuck the end under the loaf, although you know that never works for long. But that’s OK, because as soon as you put the bread, jam and butter away, there it is! That little clip, hiding under your cell phone or peeking out from the shadows in the corner of the kitchen floor.
So it would be nice to have an extra clip or two on hand, right? Just in case.
But why would anybody think that the Random Stuff drawer is a good place to store a spare bread clip? Buried under the potato peeler, garlic press, bottle opener, and corkscrew (and all their spares), would you ever be able to find one?
Or ten?
Or several dozens of them?
I don’t have a good answer to that question. And I can’t give you a sensible reason why I found exactly 111 of them at the back of my Random Stuff drawer yesterday.
I counted them.
Every last one of them.
Of course I did.
That’s one-hundred-and-eleven, in case you thought you read those Arabic numerals wrong. Almost ten-dozen plastic bread clips, of varying colors and shapes, all stamped with freshness dates and prices from long-gone bread loaves down through the ages.
And all of them sitting patiently (and randomly) there at the back of my Random Stuff drawer. For no good reason that I can think of—because I don’t remember putting any of them in there. Why would I? It would make no sense.
And yet, there they were. With nobody else in the house to blame for putting them there.
In my defense, I probably misplaced the clip, twisted the bag shut, and then found it again just moments after putting the loaf away. “No point in pulling out the bread again right now,” I probably said. “I’ll fix it tomorrow at breakfast,” and dropped it into the Random Stuff drawer.
That could happen, right?
Once or twice?
Now and then?
One hundred and eleven times?
To be honest, I’ve never actually liked those little plastic bread clips. They never seem to hold the bag closed tightly enough for my taste. So why would I want to save even one more of them?
I greatly prefer those little wire twist ties, but for some reason they’re not used much by bread companies anymore. I think they work better than the clips do in keeping your bread fresh. And you can use those twist ties in so many other ways.
Which may be why I also found exactly 51 twist ties — red, white, black, green — jumbled about with those plastic bread clips at the back of my Random Stuff drawer.
And still nobody else to blame for putting them there.
Huh.
If you’re looking for an answer to why a man would save more than 160 bread-closure devices to seal up that single loaf of bread that he buys maybe twice a month, I can’t help you. He just does, it turns out. And he doesn’t even know that he’s doing it.
But please don’t judge me too harshly. At least not until you pull out your Random Stuff drawer and dig all the way to the back to see what you might find lurking there.
Paper clips? Safety pins? Matchbooks?
Go ahead. I’ll wait.
Rubber bands? Ballpoint pens? Expired coupons?
But if it’s a treasure trove of extra bread clips and twist ties you find, and you wonder who might be able to use them, I’ll pass, thank you very much. I’m back down to zero with all of them.
My bread should be fine with the top twisted shut for now, because I can’t find the clip I lost this morning.
TR Kerth is the author of the book “Revenge of the Sardines.” Contact him at trkerth@yahoo.com
