Stubbornness

I pulled pork chops out of the freezer too late to use for supper, so I had to think fast and make a new dinner plan before dashing off with the girls to Fiona's 5:00 hair appointment. I had a leftover cheater pie crust I needed to use up, and appropriate amounts of spinach, swiss, eggs, and ham if not bacon, so I decided a quiche would do the trick.

We were in a bit of a rush by that time, though, so I got the crust out of the fridge and tried to press it into service too soon. It showed its irritation by cracking in numerous places. As I began the process of mending the crust, Fiona meandered out into the kitchen, inquiring about my flurry of activity.

I explained that I had tried to hurry the pastry crust, and showed her my mixed results. "Oh, it's stubborn!" she exclaimed. "It's just like a man!" I was beyond speechless at this point-- we do not talk like that in this house-- but she went on. "It's just like... Toot Toot!"

Ah-ha! Now it all comes together. I asked Fiona who said Toot Toot was stubborn, and she said he himself did. And truthfully, it is well within reason that Toot Toot informed Fiona that he (and perhaps all of the male population as well) is stubborn. This is the same man who has added names for himself for years. Besides the ones he was given at birth, he also has tacked on Leonardo, Puccini, and Humility. When Ian and I began dating, he also gave Dad the moniker IKE-- short for one of Toot's favorite phrases-- "I know everything." At least the root of Toot Toot's stubbornness is self-attribution. Toot Toot, we couldn't love you more, lumps and all.