We have our previous Go-To-Gays, Wade and Gary, to thank for this month's reader finding us and becoming a regular follower.
She was the second runner up in the 2014 Robert Benchley contest for her article, "Just The Socks, Please. Nothing But The Socks" and was honored by the National Society of Newspaper Columnists as a top ten finalist in the 2008 Will Rogers Writing Competition for her article “The Side Effects Of Advertising”. She has also been a Finalist and Semi-Finalist several times over in Humor Press along with having been recognized with numerous Honorable Mentions from 2007 to the present.
Cy was introduced to Chick Lit Central several years ago when she was a participant in a Wade Rouse/Gary Edwards Workshop and is thankful for the opportunity to a part of the Chick Lit community.
She is finishing up a book for children called "Pyramids and Whiskers" while also working on a bittersweet book about aging parents. She can be found on Facebook and Twitter.
Studies show families who eat meals together are closer, encounter less problems in life and have better hair days. I asked my children if they could remember the last time we all ate together as a family. Actually sat a table. With no cell phones. Where food was prepared in an oven. With plates that don’t bend and silverware that actually goes in a dishwasher. And with manners. None of this twirling ones foot in a grapefruit half. Or seeing who can belch the loudest. Also not included is trying to balance a soup bowl on one knee and a cracker on the other as you’re watching “Jeopardy”. No, I’m talking about a meal which requires preparation. A meal where we discuss current events and politics. Kind of like the Kennedys but without all those pesky servants hovering about.
“Was it Easter?” my son asked.
“No, I think it was Christmas,“ my daughter replied.
“Remember that Pop Tart I toasted for you last May? I think that counts,” I noted.
Both kids nodded in agreement; though I caught them rolling their eyes at each other silently acknowledging Pop Tarts probably wouldn’t count in the definition of a meal and last we knew, did not require an oven.
The decision had been made. I talked it over with my children and it was unanimously agreed. We would prepare and eat a meal together. There would be vegetables and everything. No trying to pretend Doritos constituted a food group. Or that a box of Lemonheads would be considered legumes.
Once inside the grocery store, I made the mistake of choosing a shopping cart the size of a Mack truck complete with a kiddy car attached to the front of it. Maneuvering the thing required the precision it takes to land a Navy jet onto an aircraft carrier or trying to back a Boeing 747 into my driveway. I looked around to see if anyone had seen me knock over a display of Beef Jerky and wished I had worn my trench coat and fake mustache I find useful in situations like this.
The woman at the meat counter looked me over as I asked for a roast.
“How much do you know about cooking a roast?”
“Oh, I imagine it goes into an oven, right?”
“Here’s a guide to the roasts we offer and how to cook them. Review it and come back later.”
“But I don’t have time.”
“You don’t have time? Do you think this is something you approach with little preparation and knowledge? You think you can just waltz in here and ask for a roast- all willy-nilly like?”
“Well, no but..”
“Take for example this roast. If I were to let you buy it- and I’m not saying it’s a go at this point- you would have to promise me you’ll follow the instructions. Gently rub it with olive oil and garlic. Massage it with herbs de provence. Bake it in a….”
“How much is a roast that size?”
“How much is it? Is this a question about money?”
“Well, kind of.”
“If you have to ask how much it costs, you can’t afford it.”
“I promise. I just want to know if I need to delay paying my mortgage this month.”
“Sorry. You aren’t getting this roast.”
“I’ve managed to raise two fine children to adulthood. I think I can take on a roast.”
“Not with that attitude you can’t.”
I texted my kids to tell them we’d have to go to plan B.
As we sat down to eat, a calm embraced us. We were together and that was all that counted. Our meal may not have been as planned but it’s amazing what one can do with a bag of Doritos and a box of Lemonheads.