Tonight we had hamburgers and macaroni and cheese. Not exactly gourmet fare, but easy and quick to get on the table. Because the goddess had accompanied me on my last trip to the grocery store, the macaroni was shaped like Sponge Bob and his compatriots.
So there we were, eating together companionably, when she stabbed a piece of macaroni and announced “I think this is Sandy.”
John looked at her in contempt. “That’s not Sandy,” he countered. “That’s Squidward.”
Let me interject here that all the macaroni noodles look exactly the same to me: orange blobs with cut out holes. They bear no resemblance to any cartoon character I have ever seen. But my children, being more discerning than me, thought otherwise.
“John, it is so Sandy,” the goddess said in annoyance.
“No it’s, not, it’s Squidward,” he argued.
“I think it looks like that, you know, that thing,” said Tom helpfully.
“You mean Gary the Snail?” asked Amy.
“Yeah, that’s what I mean,” he agreed. I felt like I had landed on another planet, one where I was the only intelligent life form. Why were these people even looking at the macaroni? Why not just do the American thing and shove it in your mouth without pausing to consider its shape?
Well, my family has issues, what can I say? It was paramount that the noodle be identified before anyone else took another bite. John got up from the table and walked over to get the box. He looked at it, pumped his fist in the air and said “Hah, Sandy isn’t even one of the choices!!” Oh sweet victory, to trump a six year old in the guessing of noodle shapes!! But then his face fell and he was forced to concede “But neither is Squidward.”
Which left us in a dilemma: who was that cheesy noodle character? Amy grabbed the box from John and said “See, I told you. It’s Gary the Snail.”
“Yeah,” said Tom. “Gary the snail.”
I just stared at my plate in shame. I felt as if we were the stars of the pilot episode of an extremely bad sit-com, one that had no chance of ever being picked up by a network, not even the WB. My family, however, happily polished off the rest of their macaroni and cheese, carefully identifying each character before consuming it. All I can say is Thank God for Prozac!!!