Cheese in little wrappers!

Originally written 1/7/07

Couldn't decide what to make for supper tonight. Four children and I can't stock enough food to keep them happy. It seems to all be gone 2 days after I buy it. Hubby had the van so I am stuck with Pizza, again, no thank you, or, the corner store. It's cold out so I don't want to go to the corner store either. Oh yeah, I do have teenage children don't I? They're feet work better than mine. After all isn't that why I had children in the first place? Well, no, actually I had them because they were cute, then I kept them because I knew someday I could pass off the chores I hated to them while they found interesting ways of torturing me, like making me go grocery shopping three times a week. Yes, it's their fault I have no food, I'll make them go.

I choose the boys, they're noisy anyway and keep wrestling in my living room, giving each other wedgies and generally shaking the house. I have planned a simple dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches and a special treat, chips, usually reserved for Friday's. The nursing mother in me has not died quietly and I still attempt to force nutrition into them every night. While I admit this is not, by any means a nutritious meal, I feel less guilty because I have never in my life as a mother, fed my children "cheese product". Cheese is dairy, good for you, cheese product is junk.

I give the younger of my two boys money (he is honest to a fault and I know I will get my change!) and explicit instructions on the purchasing of real cheese vs cheese product. Off they go into the cold to walk the half block and purchase the makings for dinner. I force my pink cell phone with the playboy bunny insignia, (my husband still thinks I'm sexy and purchases these lovely treasures; my son's think he's gross!) into the hand of above said younger son just as he is walking out the door. He is horrified. I realize unless his brother is on fire (assuming he didn't set it and doesn't find it incredibly funny) he will not use this phone. If there is confusion over the cheese he will not call. A last ditch attempt to provide nutrition I holler after him, "If they don't have real cheese, just get pasta!"

Twenty minutes later my thoughtful and cold son's arrive home, they, like their father, have remembered everything and even noticed an item or two I did not include but they knew I was out of, milk, and (angels that they are) cream for my coffee! What wonderful future husbands I'm raising! You're welcome girls.

I am not the first one to open the bags from the store, that, of course, falls to my eight year old who must know everything about everything and everyone. I haven't even made it to the kitchen when I hear her squeal with delight, "It's the kind in the little wrappers!" My second daughter runs to her in disbelief, Santa could have walked in the front door and they would have been less delighted. They then begin to sing a brand new song written on the spot in tribute to the cheese product,

"It's in little wrappers, it's in little wrappers!"

and dance, girls do this.

I have lost the battle of the cheese.

I will never again be able to convince them that it is just a nasty rumor, this "cheese in little wrappers".

"Your friends mommy's probably wrap it themselves and tell them it comes that way."

I make the grilled cheese, grimacing and groaning silently that anyone ever thought a cheese product a good idea in the first place, can't improve on nature blah blah blah, I reluctantly feed it to them. It of course is a big success. Actually, it was kind of yummy.