going for this time. Reaching into the well of personal stories from
my family, this week's guest star is my cousin Flem's son Jebediah.
(Name changed to protect what innocence he has left.)
Once upon a long ago, GrandMama hitched her wagon to a star by the
name of George "Tipsy" McStagger (name also changed). Tipsy is a
so-called 'Health-Nut'; so-called in the sense that paying $4 for a
bulb of "organic" garlic is contradicted by downing a bottle of wine
every two days. Other than the excessive drinking, the health-nut
reputation is well-earned, witness the horribly dry, grainy "organic"
peanut butter in their fridge and the "sometimes with bonus blood
spots in the yolk organic fertilized" eggs, etc.
This is the South, so whenever a person enters a home they are
quickly encouraged to eat, and excuses are not usually accepted. It is
a knowing-glance-traded inside joke within the family that anytime you
have anything to drink or eat in Tipsy's presence, you will be offered
THE GOOD KIND. Want to make a sandwich, we got THE GOOD KIND of
turkey, ham, whatever from the deli. The bread? Why yes, it is filled
with whole grains, and some twigs and berries if I'm not mistaken.
Because it's THE GOOD KIND. Some mayonnaise, butter, mustard, pickles,
syrup, shoe polish? THE GOOD KIND is available, have no fear. Why the
ordinary kind of a lot of things is kept around is not known, it is
sometimes implied that GrandMama has stealthily brought in the sub-par
versions just to irk Tipsy.
One weekend not so very long ago, while Jebediah was visiting them
for the weekend, his oft-repeated phrase "I'm hungry" escaped his
reptilian lips. GrandMama responded that supper was not long off,
would he like a few cookies to tide him over. Possessing neither the
ability to stop time nor a flashy thing like Men In Black, I was not
able to advise the boy against the offer without insulting GrandMama
and Tipsy; so I said nothing.
"Yeah!!" Jebediah happily exclaimed, and I watched helplessly as
Tipsy moved towards the rooster-shaped cookie jar.
Tipsy spoke with more than a little pride as he removed the
rooster's head and offered the jar to Jebediah, "You have all you want
of these, we made these yesterday, they're THE GOOD KIND."
I waved off the offer after Jebediah greedily two-fisted himself
headlong into regret. You see, THE GOOD KIND of cookie looks a lot
like an ordinary chocolate chip cookie from a distance; and the right
angle. The closer you get, you start to see bits of what might be
un-ground wheat, oats, even something that looks like it was shredded
off of a cattail. There are little brown clumps, (carob chips posing
as chocolate); so a kid might overlook the stuff that looks like it
was swept up off the floor and chomp right down. Jebediah sure did.
The look on his face was very comical indeed, I can't describe it.
Let's compare it to the hypothetical expression one might have if they
were to drink from a glass of vinegar if they were expecting lemonade.
Harsh is an understatement. Now you may have gathered that Flem is not
too big on social graces, and might not have taught Jebediah about
being polite, and you would be right. Less funny for my story, but he
picked up the idea somewhere, and didn't immediately spit out the
not-a-treat cookie and say what he thought of it. He actually
continued to chew and swallow the cookie, and the rest that he now
regretted taking from the Evil Rooster of Death. Quite a heroic feat,
as chewing these cookies is a lot like eating at the beach, except
there is usually some redeeming flavor in whatever you got sand in
when you eat at the beach. Good for my story, he did try to palm some
of them off on me, which we both got a laugh out of, believe that!
I don't know if reptiles have lips, or if his lips resemble them, I
just wanted to write that sentence that way.
Carob is a brown substance that vegans and others will have you
believe is "better than chocolate - and better for you!", which, you
know, it may be healthier but nothing is better than chocolate, and
carob doesn't even come close.
No comments:
Post a Comment