Aluminum Foil

Today I am grateful for aluminum foil.  Since we probably won’t be able to chip our gas grill out of the patio-glacier for another two months, I’ve been broiling and baking a lot of our meals in the oven.  I wouldn’t want to do it without aluminum foil carrying the sticky, greasy mess right to the trash.

Anyone remember the aluminum foil our parents bought?  When mom would say, “Get me a piece of aluminum foil and make sure I get a whole piece!”  I’d hide under the dining room buffet.  I could not tear that crap for a million bucks.  Usually it was because the previous tearer had left an uneven end.  Probably my sister.  He-he.  With my stubby, chewed fingernail, I’d pick at the little sliver at the end, crumpled and wrinkled and squished tight to the roll. If I was lucky enough to find the starting piece, I’d peel it off ever so slowly so as to not cause another nightmarish-mutant-slinkyish-striped-twirl of frustration.  Never worked.  I hated aluminum foil and wondered why there was a teethy clawed edge to tear off sheets when sheets were impossible to begin with.

Someone in quality control did their job.  Well. Today’s aluminum foil not only unrolls without the use of surgical tools, it also tears.  Evenly.  Every time.  Halleluiah!  That’s why I’m grateful.