You know how children don't have those social sensors that tell them when NOT to say something?
Well, I've got a story for you. A long one.
Wednesday coming home from work, I remembered Ripstick Boy had said he wanted to cook dinner. (yes, he is STILL on the cooking kick, YIPEE!)
Anyhoo, I then realize I have nothing 'simple' for him to cook and I'm not ABOUT to do anything big because I was T. I .R .E. D.
I was thinking cereal was looking pretty good for dinner...but decided he wouldn't like that suggestion.
So, I call RB and ask him what he wants to cook and he replies 'Hamburger Helper." A friend of his raves about it so he is dying to make some. This was fine with me because how SIMPLE is THAT?!
Now, here is where it gets interesting. We don't make Hamburger Helper....because we always do stuff from scratch. (I know, go ahead and hate me, my mom never used it so the only time I did was during college.)
When I tell Curly Girl we have to pick out a box of Hamburger Helper for dinner, she wrinkles up her nose...and I know what is getting ready to happen. But its too late to stop her.
We are standing there in the isle with people all around us. Women who are picking out their 'favorite' for the evening too. There are LOTS and LOTS of boxes of Hamburger Helper in the carts ALL AROUND US.
Curly Girl then says...quite LOUDLY:
"But MOOOMMMMM, Hamburger Helper is NASTEEE!" followed by
"We NEVER eat Hamburger Helper!"
And then without taking a breathe she continues on her "hatred of Hamburger Helper tirade" with:
"Who in the WORLD would ever EAT THIS STUFF?" "I'm sure not going too!" "YUCK"
She said all this AT THE TOP OF HER VERY SWEET LUNGS...
About this time, all the Stepford Wife HEADS swivel our way. Okay, maybe that was just my imagination because it was running rampant.
After all, I didn't want to OFFEND any Hamburger Helper connoisseurs that might have been lurking in the isle.
I just smile and say something like 'VAMOOSE" to get us out of there before the 40 women buying HAMBURGER HELPER lynched us.
The story doesn't end there.
We go home, Ripstick Boy MAKES the Hamburger Helper.
We EAT the Hambirger Helper.
My husband says "MAN, I LOVE HAMBURGER HELPER!" "I haven't had it since college!" and I agree that its pretty darn good for a BOX.
Ripstick Boy is all puffed up with pride and glowing and says "its AWESOME and I COOKED it myself!" (I think he actually threw his shoulders back while saying that)
So quietly I had to ask her to repeat herself...
Curly Girl says...
"may I have some more?"
tee hee hee.......