Christmas Latkes

I guess I had too much fun on Christmas eve. When we woke up on Friday, Rooster opened the cupboards and checked shelves.

"Where are the potatoes?" He asked.

I was playing with BB on the living room floor. She was pulling stuffed animal birdies in and out of a pretend bird house. "We don't have any potatoes." I said. I know everything that is in my pantry down to the last thread of saffron.

"You're kidding," said Rooster. He was shocked. Incredulous. I asked him what was up. He looked at me like I was insane. "Last night's latke project?" he raised an eyebrow.

All I remember about last night was falling in love with a particular bottle of chardonnay and laughing my head off at the movie "The Hangover."

"Last night you told me you weren't going to bed until you made latkes," he told me. "You were jumping up and down with the hand grater. You were really pumped up."

"But we don't have any potatoes," I said.

"I suggested we go to bed and make latkes tomorrow and you accused me of never letting you have any fun," he said.

Huh.

"So this morning I thought I'd make it up to you by helping you grate potatoes."

Awww...

"We really don't have any potatoes in the house?"

We really do not. "Merry Christmas, Rooster!" I said.