September 21, 2009

COPY CAT, COPY CAT, COPY CAT!




SEE THIS PICTURE BELOW?



Yes—they now have a name for it. I thought it was called crap, but my kids call it “Mexican macaroni and cheese." You know—the generic stuff. It’s the mac and cheese in the plain box that isn’t Kraft®.


I always wondered why my kids called the generic mac and cheese “Mexican macaroni and cheese.” I finally realized it was because none of them take after their Mexican food-loving parents who have Bajio’s number on speed dial. My husband and I LIVE for Mexican food. My kids however, don’t like it very much. Anything they don’t like is instantly dubbed “Mexican food.” (Apparently, half of everything I cook is Mexican food.)
Hence—that is how generic mac and cheese got the name: “Mexican mac and cheese.”

It was a dark and stormy night inside our homestead when my kids ate the generic stuff for the first time, throwing the biggest fit that would put Lindsay Lohan to shame. I fully admit I bought it to save a few pennies because Kraft® can be big $$$$ when buying in bulk—AND—there was a HUGE caselot sale on the generic brand.
I now know why.
I now know why I was the only dork happily filling up my cart while others just walked past. They knew a dark secret—and they didn’t share.

Shame on you. Dang it.

I thought my kids were just pulling the typical: “I’m-gonna-throw-my-tantrum-and-ask-for-ice-cream-instead-because-there-isn’t-a-chance-in-Haagen-Daaz-heaven-that-mom-is-going-to-develop-a-brain-fart-and-forget-that-dessert-comes-before-dinner.”

THAT kind of tantrum.


I thought my kids had taken it upon themselves to exalt their usual status from picky complainers to glorious whiners. Come on, really. Only moms are allowed to graduate their kiddos to that rank—they don’t get to do it themselves. What would I complain to my husband about if my kids took it upon themselves to be so self-sufficient?
I and I alone am the one who can tell my kids where to stuff it—so into their mouths they spooned their generic mac and cheese, each and every one of them sobbing like a malfunctioning Baby Alive potty doll from Toys R Us.


Flustered that I had cooked--yet again--another meal, only to hear the chorus of “woe is me” ringing in my ears, I gave them “the talk.” (No, no, no. Not the sex talk—inappropriate at the dinner table. The “other talk.”) I swore I’d never do it, but I caved.
Frustrated beyond frustration (that’s pretty frustrated) I gave them the lecture about poor, starving kids in Mozambique and young college kids. I explained to them how those people didn’t have food and how they should be grateful for whatever they had, REGARDLESS. To prove to them that it was just F.I.N.E, I rolled my eyes, grabbed a spoon, and inhaled a mouthful.


Either I lost consciousness for 3 seconds, or the vapors rising off the generically inedible scientific-experiment—whatever the crap it was—left me partially dumb for I could not speak.

In those paralyzing seconds I thought I had sunk my teeth into fermented cheese-covered barf. Even the power of MENDADENT couldn’t save this FDA-approved catastrophe. Toxic cheese manure hung off my tongue because I refused to swallow. And I was sure then—as certain as I have ever been--that this was a noxious ingredient used to manufacture nukes.
And I had chewed a lethal dose.
America’s enemies will win hands-down if their military drops these babies as missiles in the form of bio-warfare.


“WATER! SOMEBODY GIVE ME WATER!” I gasped.


Meanwhile, as I am struggling for my next breath through polluted lungs, do you realize the United States could be BRILLIANT if they used this stuff to find Osama Bin Laden? Nothing would get a grip on anti-terrorism like dropping this toxic product across the mountainous regions of Iraq. I guarantee it would clear out the bad guys like an ant hole plugged up and smoked out.


NOW when I leave for the grocery store, my kids make me swear a vow of pirate death that I won't buy Mexican Mac and cheese and that I will kindly donate those dollars instead in the treat aisle where tooth-rotting sugar dwells.





However, I have to confess, it’s been many moons since I bought that stuff, but now I have been thinking of buying it again--not because of the price (Heavens, Kraft® is worth every shiny penny) but because—it might help my kids to be BILINGUAL. But I guess there is always Dora for that....
Oh, and when Christmas looms near--forget the lump of coal under the tree if they’re bad. I use a box of the generic mac and cheese.



There’s nothing like putting generic mac and cheese under the tree to get your kids to cry harder than seeing Barbie’s extremities being yanked off by their brother.

In the darkest moments of mommyhood—there is a shimmer of hope. It’s been a wonderful discovery, I have to say. I can now get my kids to shape up in seconds by pulling out the expired box from years ago (it’s worked like a charm) and flashing it at them.
“You will unload the dishes and stop telling me no—or else I’ll make the mac and cheese tonight.”

“NHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

“Oh yeah, sister.”

“But, I don’t want to do the dishes!” HUGE gulp of air and visual sobbing without the tears. SOOOOOOOO staged. Puh-lease.

“The dishes—or the macaroni? What’ll it be, mate’?”
(*disclaimer* I didn’t really use that word—it was used here for dramatic effect ONLY.*)

“Make a choice,” I prompt. “Unload the clean dishes—or its Mexican macaroni. Clean dishes—or MeXiCaN MaCaRonI. Tick-tock, tick-tock.”





“ummm……um…….” My daughter looks anxious.

“Hurry, time’s running out. In three seconds I’m throwing in vegetarian shepherds pie—the refried bean version,” I say to seal the deal. (* insert evil MUWHA HA HA laughter here*)

“NO! No, not the shepherd’s pie! Okay—okay. I’ll unload the dishes,” my daughter weeps.

I tell you, it works every time. Give it a try. Not the vegetarian shepherds pie with refried beans……well, not unless you want to go into cardiac arrest………but the generic stuff.
Your kids will clean anything you ask them to faster than you can say, “What in Freaking tarnation is this piece of…?!!!”






* Once again thank you, THANK YOU to Jordan who helped photoshop some of my pictures. I love how Captain Hook came out! You're awesome, girl! You should go into buisness for this! Thank you!!*



9 comments:

AnnieAd said...

Loved this. I'm still laughing [and my co-workers are wondering what's up] You're right, sometimes the 'real deal' is worth spending a little extra! Example: cheetos vs. the copy cat version.

Jess said...

HAHAHAHAHAHA.... seriously funny stuff girl! Mostly because it is true! The generic Mac & Cheese is just plain poison! Were I to ever consider buuying the stuff my kids would walk. Wait...maybe that isn't such a bad idea. Hmm must stop & think this through again. LOVED the post!

MommyMert said...

Very funny... hopefully no one gets offended or takes it as ethnic slaunder.

Camryn said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
tina said...

That was funny. I did a belly laugh with this HUGE belly of mine. Thanks for the visual and the laughs.

Anonymous said...

I've added you to LDS Listings!

I don't see the button on your site. Maybe I just missed it. I do know I took a long time to get back to you (sorry about that) - so maybe you could add it again. Thanks! http://ldslistings.blogspot.com

Stacy said...

This was HILARIOUS!! I once bought my kids "generic" fruit snacks and they were crying and complaining from the backseat of the car that they weren't the kind they liked, and that they tasted terrible. I was so irritated that I proceeded to shove an entire handful into my mouth to prove a point. I swear those fruit snacks were like trying to chew a rubberband, I thought I might pull out a filling! I actually spit the entire wad of them into my hand while I was driving!

Coco said...

I just found y our blog and must say I almost died laughing from this! THANKS!

Shan B. said...

That was so funny!!!