I want to live in a world where carbs are king, beer has metabolic enhancing qualities and Reeces is an official food group.
But until then…
My husband came home the other day to find our kitchen looking like the junk food section of the grocery store. The counters and table were covered with every delectable, sugary cereal known to man, Pop Tarts of every variety and “granola bars” that could rival the calorie and fat content of a Snickers any day of the week. Basically…it was like standing at the threshold of heaven.
“What the hell is going on in here?” my husband asked.
My three kids were standing amid the mess, devising a plan to export the “contraband” to the safety of their rooms.
“She’s been at it all day,” replied my son. “You should have seen what was in my cereal bowl this morning. I felt like I was eating the mulch.”
“It was a healthy bowl of high fiber cereal,” I yelled from the pantry. “You’ll grow to like it.”
“Oh geez,” moaned my husband. “Is this because of the weight you gained on vacation?”
There was a collective gasp in the room.
“Way to go dad,” said soon-to-be college bound daughter. “Now she’s really gonna go batshit crazy. Oh well…at least I’m out of here in a week.”
And then it hit him…his ritual of potato chips, recliner and Fox News in the evening might be in jeopardy.
“The potato chips?” he asked, hopeful.
“They’re gone,” said my youngest, shaking her head sadly, as if referring to the passengers on the Titanic.
“Here,” I said, as I threw a bag of rice cakes at him. “These are much healthier than those chips.”
“But I like to eat my chips,” he said. I gave him the stink eye until he took a bite.
“Ugh,” he said. “What a crock to call these rice ‘cakes’…there’s nothing cake-like about these. It’s like eating packing peanuts or the cardboard box they came in.”
He threw a bite down to the dog, who took a whiff and then turned her nose up to look at him, as if to say, “What the f*ck? Where’s my Snausage?”
I sat the four of them down at the kitchen table, with me at the head of it and I spoke to them of my quest to convert our junk and fast food loving family into vitamin taking, exercising, broccoli loving health nuts…
“While I trust that you will give this the good old fashioned college try…one of you will betray me…”
All eyes went to my husband, who was attempting to stash a few Chips Ahoy cookies into his suit pocket.
“What?” he said. “There’s starving people in China!”
“There’s starving people in this house,” said my son. “Can’t a dude get a simple bologna and cheese sandwich? I opened the fridge for a piece of cheese ended up with a mouthful of tofu!”
“What is tofu anyway?” asked my daugther. And before I could answer, my son had Googled it on his phone…
“Eeeewwwww…it’s made from curdled soy milk!” exclaimed my son.
“It is actually very good for you and you’ll see how good it can taste tonight when I make a tofu and veggie stir fry in the new wok I bought,” I said.
“Well it looks like spackle,” said my son, disgusted.
“That’s it,” said my husband pushing back from the table. “Who wants to go to Skyline?”
“Judas!” I yelled at my husband as he and my turncoat children made their way to the door. “Don’t blame me when your teeth rot and you can’t even fit into your fat pants anymore! At least my ass won’t need it’s own time zone!”
I heard the car back down the driveway as I sat alone at my kitchen table staring into the happy face of Cap ‘n Crunch. Then I went to the pantry and looked at the skinny bitch on the box of the “healthy” cereal.
Yep…the Captain looked much happier.
“Oh piss on it,” I said as I grabbed my cell phone and dialed my husband.
“Pick me up a couple cheese coneys.”
I felt better already.