How many times can one have a mishap in the kitchen in two weeks’ time, I ask you? Well, I’m gonna tell you about three…that happened to this girl I know. You might say a friend of a friend. A perfect stranger, really.

Scenario One: You sit at work daydreaming all day about what you’re going to have for supper. You have the menu all planned out and you’ve starved yourself nearly to death by 3:00. You come home and begin making the supper you’ve carefully thought out, in this case broccoli and cheese soup and Red Lobster cheddar biscuits (buy yours HERE, they’re fabulous). You’re reading the back of the box to make sure you’ve got your butter/ cheese ratio correct and see a plug for their new Parmesan-Rosemary blend biscuits. While they sound appetizing, it’s not something you would pick up. Or maybe, but not in the bulk box the first time. They’d probably be tasty with pork chops, or herbed chicken. 

You begin to mix the water and dough mix. Something doesn’t smell right. It doesn’t smell bad, it just doesn’t smell like it normally does. You turn the box around slowly. Sure enough, you have accidently bought the parmesan type. Crap on a cracker. You’re not having chicken, you’re having cheddar soup to be paired perfectly with cheddar bay biscuits.

Sigh.

Looks like now you’ll be having non-perfectly paired food.

Scenario Two: You have had beans simmering away in the crockpot all day. You have planned the rest of the meal accordingly: kraut and weenies (even though there’s ham in the beans, you still need meat), fried potatoes, and of course, cornbread. You get home from work and are ambling around, doing lots of nothing, when your aunt next door texts you with an egg emergency. She’s one short. No problem. You have a fresh carton of 18, plus a lonely four. You zip on a jacket and head across the yard with the four. Turns out she’s preparing the same meal that you are, except her potatoes are of the mashed variety, being that they’ve already had fried this week. You stay awhile, just lingering and catching up on books, family, whatever. You get home and start fixing your own supper. It’s after you have the kielbasa sliced and in the pan you realize you haven’t come across any kraut in your cabinet in quite some time. A slightly panicked search ensues. You frantically pull numerous cans of beans out to search more thoroughly. You make a trip to the stockpiled goods in the basement. No dice. And no kraut, either. These sorts of things don’t happen often, but when they do, it’s a catastrophe. A few weeks ago, it was gravy on the stove with no milk. And today, no kraut for the weenies. Instead of dashing out to the grocery store, I just made the call to next door.

Lo and behold, salvation was found in the cabinet. Once again, you zip your jacket and retrace your route.

Geminis. Saving the day for each other. It’s a wonder we hadn’t made plans to go out and just forgot.

Scenario Three: you get in your head you’d dearly love to have some cupcakes. As this happens with some regularity, you just happen to have the ingredients on hand. You’ve got everything going and pull the lid off the frosting to give it a stir. Of course then you have to lick the remnants off the lid…because the uncooked cupcake batter you already consumed off the beater deserves it.
It doesn’t taste like it normally does. It doesn’t taste bad, it just doesn’t taste like what you remember. Like when you order Sprite and they serve you 7-up instead. Like you won’t notice. I don’t mind 7-up, but I like a little warning (now replacing Coke with Pepsi, they’d fightin’ words). You look at the container. Pillsbury brand. That must be the problem. Seems like you prefer Duncan Hines. But wait. Vanilla marshmallow??? Ewwww. So, once again, you peer into the cabinet and BEHOLD!! There is another can of white!
You peel the lid off and stir. It doesn’t look as white and fluffy as usual. Here we go again, you think, and take a tentative lick off the spoon. It doesn’t taste exactly right. And why do the cans looks so different if they’re the same brand? Unless…..

Sure enough, the white is older. Much older. Expired three years ago older.
When you’re a Gemini, you have a backup plan for your backup plan. Being that there was ZERO possibility of going to the store and 100% certainty cupcakes were going to be eaten, one must turn to Pinterest for a lifesaving frosting recipe.
And….eh. I probably should have just gone to the store. I mean, she. Not me.