Columbo Makes His Wife a Smoothie

Hi honey. I can see you’ve got your feet up. A well-deserved respite, certainly. Let me just say how proud I am of you for completing the 5K. You’ve trained so hard for that and made it to the finish line. That’s just remarkable. Your hubby can’t wait to brag to everyone down at the station.

Now, don’t you get up. Stay right where you are, because I have something I know you’ve been craving. That’s right, I’ve got your mango-pineapple smoothie right here for you, see. Let me tell you, while you were in the shower I’ve had a heck of a time with this thing. I could have sworn I’ve made a smoothie before. Like riding a bicycle, I thought I could easily pick it back up. Well, I assumed wrong.

First, I realize I got the tropical fruit mix that has those bananas you don’t like. And when I cut open the bag, it’s like the frozen fruit has a mind of its own, spilling and scattering all over the countertop. I have to stop Mittens after he hops up and starts playing with them. Little fella’s reeling from that cat nip.

Anyway, once I get all the fruit in the blender, you see, that’s when I get the juice. The juice! Believe it or not, honey, I’d just finished the juice this morning before your run. I was so clumsy I thought nothing of it. In my mind, there was another carton in the fridge. Boy was I wrong. It’s a good thing you took a well-deserved nap after your post-run shower. You probably heard me scrambling out the driveway to zip over to the super. Fortunately, they had enough juice in stock.

Well, when I get back, you’re just waking up—which is a good thing, as I’d forgotten how loud our blender can be. Now, maybe next Christmas we buy a new one, something quieter. I get my fifteenth-year detective’s increase, and though it’s not much, I can tell that with this running kick you’re on, you’ll want a whole boatload of smoothies.

Anyway, before you dive into this icy yellow concoction, let me tell you the time I had. I click the button on our blender and whamo! There goes juice and fruit chunks all over the kitchen. I’d forgotten to put the lid on the thing! Ah, geeze.

You can imagine what an imbecile I think of myself. Have no fear, hubby Columbo can be quick when he wants to. Like a 200 meter dash, I’m sponging, cleaning, sanitizing—even wiping down Mittens. Poor guy got covered in tropical detritus. He’ll be busy licking himself for the foreseeable future. I know you’ll soon be down to settle in your spot on the couch. A well-deserved settle, honey, I might add. This is when you probably heard the blender go off, again—this time with the lid on!

Now, mid-blend something dawns on me. I notice an odd ratio between frozen fruit and juice. Could it be that I’ve mixed them up? I can see by your nodding that you know me all too well. Instead of 2 cups of fruit to 1 cup of juice, I flipped it. So essentially, instead of a smoothie, I’m making you a more refined juice! Columbo, you klutz.

Don’t worry, honey. While you’re putting your feet up, I am rectifying the situation. I’m adding more fruit, making sure to take out the banana chunks you don’t like. To get the consistency just right, I’m hitting all the blender buttons—“mix,” “blend,” “churn,” and “whip.” Honey, this time I think I’ve done it. Why don’t you take a sip?

Uh oh. I can tell by the sour face I left bananas in there, didn’t I? You know, I must’ve thrown out the mangos and kept the bananas, instead. They both look practically identical when they’re frozen. Oh, I’m sorry, honey. What’s that you got? Is that—what is that you’ve found? Ah, geeze. That must be a wood chunk from the end of our wooden spoon I used at the top to help mix the blender’s contents. The blades must have scraped a few pieces off. I didn’t think it’d be that big of a piece.

Well, this has been a disaster. And I know you were looking forward to my making you a smoothie all week. I don’t know why you put up with me—after such a poor reward for your hard-earned accomplishment. I’ll tell you what, honey. How ‘bout we forgo my attempts and I run over to McDonald’s and get you their mango-pineapple smoothie, guaranteed banana-free? I can tell by your smile you’re more than agreeable.

Don’t you go anywhere. Let me get my keys. Oh, and one more thing—I may have broken the blender. So maybe it’s time we do get a new one. What do you think? Don’t have to decide just yet. I’ll let you mull it over. Wash out that taste in your mouth and I’ll be back in no time.

Oh, and my supervisor will need me this afternoon. So I’ll have to get going after I drop off your smoothie. It’s a couple streets over, believe it or not. You see, as I was cleaning fruit chunks off Mittens I noticed he also had dried blood on his paws. He’d been over to our neighbor’s where, unfortunately, there’s been a murder. I’ve cleaned up our fur-ball, so don’t worry. And I’ll get to the bottom this. But first, how ‘bout that smoothie.