11.06.2009

Marie Callender, You Heartless Bitch

I don't cry much. I might whine and bitch a whole lot, but seldom do I cry over things. My best friend of 12 years can cry at the drop of a hat, she knows it so I'm not saying anything hurtful here. It would come in handy when her dad would say she couldn't do something. She could turn on those waterworks faster than I could shrug my shoulders (my general response to anything) and he would change his mind. I guess it was a survival instinct for her, she grew up knowing that this thing worked for her so she had to employ it. I mean, if we couldn't go hang out at the bowling alley our lives were o-v-e-r, over. For serious ya'll.

That being said, there is something that can make me cry every time.

Food.

Does it to me every time. For instance, a while back momma made beef tips and rice for dinner and I was over along with some other family members. Well, while I was helping to get the table set everyone was making their plates and I walked into the kitchen to find that the rice was gone. They had taken all of the rice. Now, how the hell do you eat beef tips and rice, with no rice? Momma, seeing the panic on my face and tear about to fall, yells "Don't cry! I'm making more rice!" Too late, already crying.

While on vacation we went to a Marie Callender's restaurant. You know her right, she makes the bomb ass chicken pot pies. So, we all sit down and of course I know that I want a chicken pot pie, so that's what I order. The waiter comes back a short time later to tell me that they are out of chicken pot pie's. Out. Gone. No more. What? This is a Marie Callender's RESTAURANT right? You're not microwaving frozen pot pies back there are you? No ma'am. See, at Ms. Callender's restaurants they only make a certain amount of pies per day and when they are gone, they are gone. Momma sees my panic, it's too late. Sobbing.

Last weekend I sat in the chair by the window crying. Joe asked "What's the matter?", to which I replied "I don't know what to have for breakfast!"

These are only three stories out of a lifetime of food ordeals, there have been plenty more. I can't explain why food is my crying trigger but it is and by God if I order something and you bring it to me wrong or tell me that your out, well, you better have your method of self defense already picked out....and kleenex.

Also, Madison cried yesterday when what she wanted for breakfast was french toast sticks but we were out. Let's face it, I gave birth to myself.



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I love it when you say things to me that reinforce me positively. So...carry on then, do that thing. Lastly, capital hat!