Early on a Saturday morning a few weeks ago, I baked a batch of Blondies.

The recipe yields 24 Blondies, so my plan was to keep six, freeze another six, and offer the remaining ones to a couple of my neighbors.

Of course, I needed to wait until they had cooled off and I got to taste one to make sure they lived up to my rigorous standards. I wouldn’t want to be accused by my neighbors of giving them JT rejects.

So after finishing lunch, I tried one of the Blondies for dessert, and finding that it was good, I proceeded to implement my plan.

With two wrapped packs of Blondies I ventured outside and rapped on my neighbor’s door. Just then I spied the other neighbor locking his door and starting to walk up the street. He was too far away to do anything other than wave. Meanwhile, there was no response at the door of the first neighbor.

So I went back home and decided I’d give them each an hour or two and try again.

Meanwhile, I began to feel, well, odd. Sort of a little queasy, a little bit stuffy in my nose, sort of like I feel when I begin to come down with a cold.

Oh, no! Did I have Covid?

And my first thought was one of relief that neither of my neighbors had been at home. I would hate to have to tell them that I’m sick right after giving them food.

Well, I took a Covid test, of which I have dozens, and I was relieved to find that it came back negative. (BTW, can they make those tests any more confusing? In the event the test wasn’t that difficult to do, but the instructions sure looked puzzling when I first tried to decipher them. And the QR code that promised a video simply took me to a web site with no video in sight.)

And the next day I felt fine.

So no Covid. Either that or I recovered in record time.

And I froze the Blondies that I had planned to offer to my neighbors.

Now today, once again a Saturday, a day when my doctor’s office is closed for the weekend, and if I were to need emergency care I’d have to go to the dreaded ER, I’ve begun to feel like I’m coming down with something.

Once again a Covid test has come back negative. Guess I’ll have to wait and see how I feel tomorrow.

Why do these things always happen on a Saturday?