(Pre-script: To get the most out of this post, please read it with an ability to jump from thought to thought rapidly, and also while the song, " Big Yellow Taxi," #29 on the playlist, plays in the background. Go down to the playlist, click on that song, then come back and resume reading. I'll wait...) (...still waiting.)
When I was a kid, most Sundays went like this: We would go to church and come home in our Chevrolet station wagon. I was the only kid who wanted to sit in the middle. I liked feeling cozy. The brothers all scrambled for a window. With 4 kids, one of them got stuck in the middle with me. It was all good as long as the boys did not decide to sit boy style, with their legs spread wide, and no regard to my personal leg space needs what so ever. I am not carrying bitterness from this event, at all. Let's move on. Lunch on Sunday was always taco salad with Doritos right in it. For dinner, we would not really have dinner. We would instead watch "Mutual Of Omaha's Wild Kingdom" while eating cinnamon toast. It was like my parents were taking Sundays to be spiritual and declare a family fast from dinner... pass the toast, and do not skimp on the butter or the sugar. Years of this conditioning, and here I am, a 33 year old expert toast maker. I am skilled in the fine art of spreading the butter all the way to the edges, making sure to butter it RIGHT OUT of the toaster, or it won't melt right, leaving the 2nd piece of toast in the toaster until the 1st piece is buttered or IT'S butter won't melt right, either...and then you'll have one good piece of toast, and one not so good one that you are stuck with. NO ONE wants the butter-didn't-melt-right-because-it-passed-it's-peak-buttering-time piece of toast. Buttering to the edges is also essential. If you are in impatient toast butterer, you will be a disappointment to those to whom you are trying to serve toast. Please make a note of it.
The thing that could be considered a problem but which I do not personally consider a problem with being an expert toast preparer is that I must always prepare my own toast for myself. I can do other people's toast, but no one else can do mine. I don't mind doing it for myself. The only other person I can think of who I might allow to prepare my toast for me would be my friend Francesca. She has told me that she rocks the cinnamon toast skills, too, and for some reason, I believe her. I don't think I would believe anyone else who told me that, but I believe her. The other thing Francesca and I are both good at making is grilled cheese sandwiches. I know, because we had a conversation that went something like this:
Me: "I am really good at making really good grilled cheese sandwiches."
Francesca: "Yeah, me too!"
-XOXO,
3 comments:
Cute nostalgic look at life...liked the "no regard to my personal leg space needs what so ever" and then the feigned bitterness while declaring your nonbitterness.
Ha, "taco salad with Doritos right in it"...every family must have one of those...ours was tuna casserole with Ruffles potato chips in it.
Expert cinnamon toast maker: it's always good to strive to be at the top of your field.
And I liked how you just cruised along with your story, dropping little bits of wit here and there and then hit us with the punchline at the end:
"The other thing Francesca and I are both good at making is grilled cheese sandwiches. I know, because we had a conversation that went something like this:
Me: "I am really good at making really good grilled cheese sandwiches."
Francesca: "Yeah, me too!""
I like that picture of you - super cute!
My dad is also very picky about how the toast is buttered.
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