Another Case Unsolved

I feel like I am constantly buying rolling pins.

I made pasties for dinner tonight - massive, plate-sized ones, which are incredibly good for my diet, of course... But I had to borrow my sister's rolling pin to make it - because mine's gone awol. I asked The Old Man if he knew where it was and he said "we threw it away - don't you remember"? Hmmmm... No, I don't remember, as it goes. Upon questioning why it might have been thrown away, I discovered that it had apparently gone moldy.

I don't remember this. I don't remember this at all. In fact, I have my suspicions that my consultation was not sought on the throwing away of the apparently moldy rolling pin. My suspicions suggest that there was, in fact, very little wrong with the rolling pin, and that The Old Man just threw it away (with no consultation at all) in some sort of cleaning frenzy.

I wouldn't mind, if I believed that there were anything wrong with it. However, The Old Man has a habit of looking at things that have not been used by his good self in the recent past, and finding some sort of mysterious "mold" or other such things, which results in the disposal of said object. He does similar with food. In particular, milk. If the milk is within two days of approaching its best before date, it's out.

Similarly with meat - it goes if it's getting anywhere near the best before date. If I am not in the general kitchen area and he opens the fridge door, you can guarantee that when I come back, the fridge will be half as full as when I last looked in it.

But we're not here to discuss milk and meat. We are here to discuss The Case of The Missing Rolling Pin. I find that pretty much every time I need to make something that needs rolling, I end up having to buy a new rolling pin. This time, however, I was pretty sure I rememered that I had taken it to my sister's for Gordon Ramsay's Cookalong Live. I called her up to demand it back - to find that she was claiming only to have one rolling pin in her kitchen, and it belonged to her.

Hmph. "Are you sure? Is it made of wood? Mine was made of wood". I am aware that the majority of rolling pins are made of wood - however I was trying to catch her out/confuse her into admiting that it was mine/thinking it was when it wasn't. Didn't work. She assured me it was still definitely hers. Damn it. But luckily, she was generous enough to lend me the self same rolling pin I had accused her of stealing. She is a better woman than I.

And so, The Case of The Missing Rolling Pin was never solved. However plate sized pasties were enjoyed nonetheless.