The other day, making breakfast, I opened the jar of vegemite that usually resides on the corner rack in the little alcove in the kitchen. The same metal and glass-shelf rack that prevents the fridge from opening completely as is typically required to be able to fully pull the crisper drawer out.

Frustration!

But that is another story for another day.

Now back to the vegemite.

I wonder if this is only the case for me. There is always a jar of vegemite in the house. Nobody really knows who bought it or brought it. Nobody really knows how long it’s been there. Nobody really knows when was the last time it got consumed.

Just that, in the odd instance when it is used, it’s always a pleasant surprise. A surprise that there is vegemite at all in the house. A surprise that it is still a relatively new jar! Despite the slight dust that had gathered and settled on the lid.

Or in my case, a surprise that it was very almost, near empty.

That morning for breakfast, I scraped the last smudge of vegemite from the bottom of the jar.

I wonder if I will be conscious of filling the shopping basket with the next jar of vegemite, for the times it would sit quietly and unobtrusively in some corner of the kitchen waiting for the next moment it will be consumed.