First Published March 29, 2006~~~current mood: ditzy~~
Everyone remembers what they were doing when something of monumental proportions happens. Old timers will remember where they were when JFK was assasinated.
Newer generations will remember what they were doing when the planes hit the Twin Towers. How many of you remember exactly what you were doing when a car accident tragically ended Princess Di’s life?
This isn’t in any way making fun of Diana’s tragic demise. In fact it affected me so much that it caused me to do probably one of the dumbest things I have ever done. (Something that ten years later, my ex-husband still constantly rags on me about.)
My then future husband, Sgt. Snickerdoodle and I were just getting ready to move into our first apartment together. We were at my parents, packing up my belongings and I was putting together a vacuum cleaner that we had just bought. He tells me he is hungry and that if I go make something for us to eat, he will finish putting the vacuum together.
I decided to go the quick and easy route. What could be easier than Macaroni and Cheese? It’s the fail safe method of satisfying your hunger without food poisoning.
Don’t get me wrong, I can cook with the best of them, but wasn’t in the mood to prepare a meal worthy of Henry the VIII.
I put the water on to boil and went back to the room to check on the progress of man and machine. He seemed to be doing fine, so I proceeded to box up some more of my clothes. Once finished with that task, I went back to the kitchen and poured the uncooked macaroni into the boiling water. From the other room, I hear, “Oh Shit!!! Missy get in here!” The only thing I could think of was that he managed to either a.) break the brand new vacuum or b.) had broken himself. I ran in there in a panic and noted there was no blood or body parts lying about and the vacuum seemed to be in one piece.
Sgt. Snickerdoodle was staring at the TV in horror and disbelief. I followed his eyes and what I saw and heard caused tears to start running down my face. I sat heavily down on my bed and just listened to the news announcer.
I absentmindedly lit a cigarette and sat there for what seemed like hours, but was actually only a few minutes. My father comes running into the bedroom with an angry look on his face, screaming, “What the hell are you trying to do?? Burn the gawd damn house down?” In my shock, I look down at my lit cigarette to make sure it wasn’t touching anything. Sgt. Snickerdoodle realized what he was talking about first (which doesn’t happen too often) and says, “Missy, the mac and cheese!”
I took off at a dead run to the kitchen, but the macaroni and cheese had now become history. During the time I was in there listening to the news, the water had completely boiled out and in its place was some slimy overcooked macaroni on top covering blackened, stuck to the pan charcoal on the bottom.
To this day anytime I say I am cooking macaroni and cheese, Sgt. Snickerdoodle always has a snide remark that has ranged from, “Hey kids, turn the TV off, we don’t want mom getting distracted,” to “Did someone famous die today?”