Avo on Toast. Generally part of my morning routine. Toaster out. Bread in toaster. Plate out. Avocado and Butter out. Two knives. Sharp knife, butter knife.
I slice the Avocado with the sharp knife. Good. The toast pops, it’s ready.
Open the butter. Grab the butter knife.
Hmmm. Suddenly I’m not sure what to do with this butter knife in my hand. I know it’s a butter knife. I know I need to get it to the butter container. It’s used to spread the butter on my toast.
But how do I get the knife to the container? I quickly scan my brain, I’ve literally performed this action thousands of times.
Ah, a memory. I move the knife to the container. Now what? I find the memory again. My hand and my wrist won’t move. In an attempt the container falls to the side. Thousands of times I’ve done this, the memories make it look so easy.
Clumsily I attempt to get butter out of the container to the toast. Spreading the butter, yeah that’s not happening. I kinda just moosh it down then moosh the Avocado on top.
Add some salt and pepper and don’t look at it, it’ll be fine.