Hockey Players

Adventures in Hosting Hockey Billets: A Culinary Comedy on Ice

Do you know what a billet is? In the fascinating world of junior hockey (and probably in many other corners of the universe), a billet is basically a kid who crashes at your place during the season. It’s like having an extra teenager but without the luxury of sleepovers being optional.

These young gents somehow manage to become part of our family dynamics, for better or for worse. Despite their potential to be younger than 18, they’re essentially barred from turning 21 until after the New Year’s confetti has settled. Now, let’s talk about their culinary preferences – if it’s served at a drive-thru, chances are, they’re all in. And don’t even get me started on their cleaning skills; let’s just say they believe in the “out of sight, out of mind” cleaning philosophy.

But wait, there’s more! They have this inexplicable aversion to drinking water from anything other than a plastic bottle, and when they finally decide to tidy up their mess, it’s a production worthy of a mini-cleanup crew.

Yet, despite these quirks, here we are, embarking on our fourth year of playing host to these hockey hopefuls. Surprisingly, most of them are charming and grateful for the roof over their heads. We even engage in riveting conversations after dinner, where they enlighten us on the intricacies of hockey (and occasionally, inquire about our day).

Our biggest challenge? You guessed it: the limited menu dictated by the hockey season. It’s like a culinary Groundhog Day, with pizza, burgers, and lasagna making repeat appearances on the menu. I once attempted a culinary revolution with my “FlavorTown” creations, only to receive lukewarm reviews at best. The struggle is real, my friends.

Currently, we’re hosting two hockey enthusiasts. One is a culinary daredevil who’ll devour anything in sight, while the other is a tad more discerning. As we eagerly await the arrival of a new recruit, we’re crossing our fingers for another member to join the “I’ll eat that” squad. If not, well, it’s back to the drawing board, or should I say, the repetitive menu board, while my wife indulges in her frequent salads. (Did I mention that vegetables are more of an optional garnish in the hockey world?)

Ants In Our Drains

Obviously, this is a play on “ants in our pants.” If only it were not true!

A few weeks ago, our downstairs toilet was having problems. We were not immediately certain it was the toilet. The biggest clue was the bathroom had an earthy smell to it. To me, it was clear it was not emanating from the sink. So, after trying to clean up the earthy smell with products designed for the tank, we eventually found a plumber who would come to the house when he said he would.

The twosome shows up and provides a quick estimate. Once I saw how easily the toilet moved side to side, I knew the “unless we find something else” would quick in. In this case, the ring that secured the toilet to the floor and to the sewage was rusted through. When the integrity of the pipes was compromised, the ants were granted access. Even with the toilet now fixed, we are still fighting the consequences of this breach. How might you ask? Good question…

  1. To remove ants from your sink, use a half cup of baking soda with an equal chaser of vinegar. Rinse in 10 minutes with hot water. Ideally, this will work. When the resident teenage boys leave licorice in the sink overnight, the success of this treatment is uncertain.
  2. For your garbage disposal, ice cubes with baking soda are supposed to circulate in the pipes once they are chopped up by an “angry to be invaded” disposal. Not sure how well this worked. Because of the kitchen’s proximity to the “breached” bathroom, ant traps were set out previously. At today’s lunch, the hockey boys discovered ants feasting on the hamburger buns. The backup package proved necessary when the “extra roughage” argument was rebuffed.
  3. I bought a squirt bottle for equal parts of water and vinegar. It is mixed but not yet tried. I am uncertain what impact vinegar would have on the hockey boys. Would they melt or lose their appetites or some other unpredictable outcome? I might test the mixture’s effectiveness as they travel for an away game this weekend.

Early in this experience, I poured myself a bowl of honey nut cereal. The ants were not well camouflaged. The milk only proved they didn’t have scuba equipment. I threw in a few dried cranberries before eating and drinking the contents of the bowl. If I am going to win this battle, I will have to do it while staring them down–antenna to eyeball.