Gone in sixty seconds

Being short on food stuffs until our next trip to Costco, my wife decides to treat us and on her way home from work makes a detour and stops at our local gourmet super market, picking up an eighteen inch thin crust Swiss cheese bacon pizza for the four of us, a one liter bottle of sparkling pomegranate juice, and a large flat of strawberries for dessert. Fifteen year old son upon arriving home from school and opening the fridge, assumes that a small after school snack has been magically provided and consumes it all in short order before retiring to his room. Discovering the transgression when I, my wife, and youngest son sit down for supper, a foreboding silence envelops our home, broken only by the grumbling of our empty bellies and a steady satisfied snoring emanating from behind eldest sons nearby closed door. As I deliberately approach the door and prepare to do battle with the foul insatiable entity which has occupied eldest sons body for the past two years, I hit Domino’s on the speed dial and dream of fresh strawberries on home made shortcake, whipped cream, and out of state college.


7 responses to “Gone in sixty seconds

  1. I once baked 2 batches of brownies for a church ladies meeting. After plating them and wrapping them, I left them on the kitchen table and bundled my twin toddlers and myself off for a good nap.
    One hour later, awakened by dead silence. I checked their cribs and they were nowhere to be found. I heard noise in the kitchen and tiptoed in to see what they were up to. On top of the table, sitting only in her diaper with brownies mashed between two small fists and even more stuffed into her diaper, sat the first born, with a look of serene bliss on her baby face.
    “Mmmmm. Caaaaake. I like caaaaaake.”
    The other one, sensing that perhaps kiping some cake was a bad thing to do, was busy trying to hide the evidence….and not succeeding. At least she felt guilty.

  2. It’s hard to stay mad. I remember how much grub I could put away at that age.
    I could never get enough food or sleep and whether or not whatever I was stuffing into my gullet was on some sort of “do not eat” list was of little concern.

    Y’know…things haven’t changed that much! 🙂

  3. Babies do that when they are growing, too. You are right. Things don’t change that much.

  4. Are you sure that isn’t a picture of you, Scott, and some unknown other boy back when you would stand in front of the frig, right after I had spent a hundred dollars at the grocers, and say, “There’s nothing to eat in this house”!? Could this be Karma?

  5. I don’t believe in Karma. I do believe in the redemptive power of Swiss cheese and bacon pizza however. 🙂

  6. How about potato and swiss perogies with caramelized onions and tossed with crumbled bacon? Would that be a good substitute?

  7. Mmmm. Perogies. I haven’t had one since I moved to the sticks. They don’t do anything quite so Slavic in my neck of the woods. As far as the descendants of the Swede’s and Norwegian’s around here are concerned, Finland is eastern Europe.

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