Hot Cross Buns
Posted on Sep 4, 2011 06:24:37 PM
COMEDY OF THE WEEK – September 4, 2011
Sponsored by: Well Done 101 – This is the process in which your children ask you a question or request that you do something because they assume that you have the knowledge to meet their needs. They continue to poke, prod, and ask questions and slowly realize that you have no idea what you are talking about or that you have been hiding a secret. By the time they are through, you will feel like a small, unimpressive piece of meat that is charred beyond recognition.
AND NOW, PRESENTING THE HILARIOUS COMEDY:
Hot Cross Buns
“Mom, what’s for dinner?” Lanie whined as she came into the kitchen. I always hate this question because she really expects me to know every detail about our evening meal, and although I try to plan everything ahead of time, this was one of those days where nothing excited me. I had originally planned to have hamburgers, but Tom was not home to grill them.
“ I don’t know, Lanie, I’m working on that.” I said with some irritation.
“Well it’s at least going to be food, right?” she questioned with her sassy little sarcasm that I could hardly scold her for because she had learned it from me. I did glare at her. “What!?” she shrugged, “I’m just asking,” and she stormed off quickly before I had a chance to react. I went back to reading my celebrity news magazine while I thought about what else I could cook. I had a fridge full of hotdogs and hamburgers because Tom had said that he would come home early to grill, but it was now 6:02pm and Tom was still not home.
“Hey, what’s for dinner,” Charlie said as he came in and opened the fridge. He fumbled around for a moment and grabbed the package of deli cheese. He opened it inside the fridge and stood there long enough to make the door alarm go off.
“Hey, don’t eat all my cheese. I just bought that for the hamburgers,” I said.
“Mom, there’s a ton of cheese here. I’m not going to eat it all,” he explained as he took a large bite of what looked to be about three slices stacked together. “So are we having hamburgers?” Charlie asked as he continued to stand inside the doors of the fridge, and the door alarm continued to beep.
“Oh, we’re having hamburgers tonight?” Tucker said as he too entered the kitchen.
“BEEP, BEEP, BEEP” the piercing alarm of the fridge was taunting and successfully annoying me.
“Charlie, will you just get out of there and shut the door. That is not your own personal little air conditioner,” and I could feel my stress levels increasing along with the inside temperature of the fridge. “And, no, Tucker, we are not having hamburgers. I think we’ll just have some ‘mac and cheese.” I always had a box of that on hand and just knowing that this meal could be ready in minutes calmed me down. Most women would probably not stress at the thought of having to cook hamburgers for dinner, but I had been harboring a secret for years, and I was worried that I was about to be found out.
“Awww, come on, Mom,” Tucker pleaded. “I’m sick of ‘mac and cheese,” he whined.
“Yeah,” Charlie concurred. “Why can’t we just have hamburgers? You have all the stuff.”
“No Charlie. I bought that ‘stuff’ because your dad wanted to grill for dinner, and he’s not here. I’ll just save the hamburgers for tomorrow night instead, and maybe your dad will be home to cook them tomorrow.”
“I doubt that Dad is going to mind if YOU cook the hamburgers instead of him. Let’s just have them. “
“We can’t, Charlie. I think we’re all out of gas.”
“Well, I’m not out of gas,” Tucker exclaimed as he ripped one of the loudest, juiciest farts I had ever heard. It even ended in a tone that sounded like a question.
“Get out of here. That’s disgusting. I don’t want to hear that again,” I yelled as if being loud and scolding Tucker was really going to have any impact on his ability to fart on cue. He pranced out of the kitchen, cackling like a wild hyena. I tried not to look at Charlie because I knew I was about to laugh too, and I didn’t want to lose my serious “mom” composure, but our eyes met, and I broke into a small fit of giggles.
“No, seriously, Mom,” Charlie said composing himself and not finding Tucker’s interruption nearly as funny as I now did, “I was just at the hardware store with Dad. He just got a refill.”
“I got a refill!” Tucker yelled from the hallway, obviously listening to the affects of his little gassy joke.
“Go away, Tucker,” I said in my ‘I mean business’ tone. I heard him run upstairs.
“Charlie, your dad really likes to grill. I don’t want to spoil his fun by grilling for him.” I started to fib, and wondered if Charlie could tell.
“What’s the big deal?” Charlie shrugged.
“I’m just not cooking those hamburgers tonight. That’s your father’s job. He likes to grill, and I hate it. I’m going to just save that for him to do tomorrow,” I stated with a little annoyance and nervous exclamation because I was certain that Charlie was about to discover my secret.
Charlie paused like he was thinking and then he questioned, “Mom, do you know how to use the grill?” I didn’t answer, and tried to suppress a guilty and uncomfortable little smile. “Oh, my god, MOM! You don’t know how to use the grill,” and I swear he yelled it loud enough for the whole house and possibly the neighborhood to hear. He started laughing loudly, and he couldn’t stop. He clutched his stomach as if he was doubling over in pain, and he couldn’t catch his breath. Apparently this discovery proved to be even funnier than Tucker’s kitchen fart.
“I know how to grill,” I said, trying to defend myself.
“What have you ever grilled, Mom? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you grill, now that I think about it. Oh, my god, I can’t believe you don’t know how to use the grill,” he stated again, quieter this time, but still laughing.
“I’ve grilled before,” I said, still trying to defend myself, but I knew that my attempts were futile. My secret was out, and I could tell that Charlie was going to enjoy to continue ‘grilling’ me about this new discovery.
“When have you ever grilled?” he asked again, still chuckling.
“I’ve grilled….cheese sandwiches,” I said, and lucky for me his laughter was contagious, and I started giggling too. I kind of agreed that it was pretty lame that I didn’t know how to use the grill.
“Ah, yeah,” he said smiling. “Grilled cheese doesn’t count, Mom. I can’t believe you can’t grill,” he said again and just to rub it in further he added a “Wow!” and shook his head in disbelief. He paused as if thinking and regaining his composure. “Can I grill?” he asked as he stopped laughing. He was suddenly serious and hopeful as he raised his eyebrows at me.
“Do you know how to grill?”
“Yeah. I watch Dad all the time. It’s no big deal, Mom,” he added in an attempt to assure me that he could do it, but his words made me feel like an idiot. He then added “It’s easy,” and his insistence that he could do it and his explanation as to how he would do it just perpetuated my feelings of my own inadequacies with meat in general. I was feeling hot and frustrated and my embarrassment was causing me to baste in my own marinade of sweat. Charlie was still explaining his extensive knowledge with regard to grilling hamburgers, but I was now feeling really helpless and embarrassed. His explanations made everything sound so simple that I really felt like a loser.
“Fine, fine,” I interrupted. “Obviously you know what you are doing. Here!” I said, and I handed him the package of pre-made patties. He took them nonchalantly, but there was a spark of excitement in his hands as he took the package. I hoped that would be the only sparks I noticed, as Charlie took the package outside and turned on the grill. I decided to make a salad. At least I knew that I was good with vegetables, and cutting and chopping might take away some of my frustration.
“Can I do this for you all the time, when Dad’s not home?” Charlie called from outside.
“Absolutely!” I yelled, peeling the skin off a cucumber. I felt really small and stupid as Charlie stood out there grilling away because it was “no big deal.” I could probably do it if someone would just show me how the damn grill works, but it is one of Tom’s toys that I prefer not to play with. This was really all his fault anyway, because he promptly lost the directions when he purchased the new grill, and I’m not very confident with experimenting and trying to figure things out. Tom knows that I need to follow a plan and instruction. I bet he lost those grill instructions on purpose. I wouldn’t feel so stupid if Tom had just gotten home on time. If he had been home, he would have been able to grill, and then I wouldn’t have had to even think about it , and Charlie would never have confronted me and revealed my little secret. Charlie must think I’m really stupid, and it’s all Tom’s fault.
This conversation with myself continued in my head as I continued to wash and cut vegetables for the salad, and it was going to be the best damn salad anyone had ever tasted. I would show them that it didn’t matter that I didn’t grill because at least I knew what a vegetable was. I was really getting myself worked up. It didn’t make sense that with all the things I was capable of, I had never learned how to grill. It just made me angry because I knew that it was probably so very simple, but I just didn’t feel comfortable with the idea of cooking with fire, and gas not to mention all the bugs and spiders that lived inside the grill. I was still angry and frustrated with myself when Charlie called from outside.
“Mom, do you have the hamburger buns?”
“Yeah” I yelled back, as I grabbed the bag of rolls and backed into the door pushing it open with my own little package. I might not know how to grill, but at least Tom would be happy with my hot, cross buns. He thought they were sexy.