February 15, 2012

It's not all sunny on Sesame Street

I need a waffle iron, a plain ol’ 4 square, flat American waffle iron. If I had a waffle iron, I’d be productive and organized and efficient and I would save so much money. Way more money than the cost of the waffle iron, for sure.

How does such a ubiquitous kitchen appliance re-make my entire world? I’ve got three words for you: Organic Mini Waffles.

These little suckers are ruining my life. Seriously. The box is a friendly yellow with a big jolly picture of Cookie Monster on the front. They cost about half-again as much as the white Walmart box o’waffles and guess what? With two less servings thanks to the "organic" moniker and the whole “mini” part, you get half-again less product! Woohoo! What a steal— for Cookie Monster.

I bought these once on a whim and it was such a mistake, on par with that time I said, “Don’t worry about it, honey, I’ll do the dishes tonight, you’ve had a long day”. Set myself up big time and I’ve been falling ever since.

When I buy these damn little circles from hell, the kids clammer for them ALL DAY LONG. For breakfast, for a snack, to eat plain on the couch or with jam for lunch. Oh, they’re so cute, mom! Look how little they are! Can I have another?

No, my darling. No, you cannot have another. Between the three of you, the pack was decimated within 36 hours and there are no more. No, my own sweet love, I will not go to the store and get some right now. NO.

When I DON’T buy them, my children ask for them all day and throw fits of dejection at my every refusal. Which is fine by me. Deject away, pretty babies. But then it turns out that, from time to time, Jack will actually EAT these waffles (and only these waffles) consistently. With his total lack of interest in such a thing (you know, eating), I’m willing to suffer Cookie Monster and bring the evil back into my home.

And so it begins again.

But if I had a waffle iron, oh! I would be prepared! I would take a long weekend once a month and make a super batch of fresh blueberry waffles that would tastes better than anything Cookie Monster could come up with, I’d have the freezer stocked with them! My children would beg for more and I’d actually be able to afford it!

Then, with the ball rolling already, I’d dive in and prep several double batches of casseroles and pasta sauces! I’d make soup! I’d fill my godforsaken cramped freezer to the breaking point until every time the door opened delicious food, needing only a gentle heating, would fall out!

A waffle iron would do the trick, it would change EVERYTHING. Then I could stop financing Cookie’s habit. Because you and I both know what he does in the back alleys off Sesame Street with all that extra waffle cash.

(Of course you all realize I can’t really HAVE a waffle iron, right? Because that would mean putting my fantasy of sublime organization and preparedness to the test, risking damage to the hope it lights within me. We can’t have that. No, precious. Not that.)

What one thing do you “need” that would make it all better?


Robin said...

oh, probably something from an office supply store...or better yet Levenger...the Cadillac of office supply stores. Just the right thing would get me organized, and all my stuff would magically put itself away, and be exactly at my fingertips when I needed it, and I wouldn't spend 15 minutes looking for a pen EVERY SINGLE TIME i need to write something down...definitely searching for that magic office supply thingie.

Meg said...

Ah, the mythical Office Chalice of Productivity with the Pen of Eternal Availability. I know it well. Sometime I think it's one of those colorful shiny binder clips and sometimes I think it's what ever is on page 7 (a mystical number, you know) of Levengers.

grandmem said...

Retirement. Retirement would make everything better. Oh, except the money. It wouldn't make the money better. But I could take my waffle iron and go live with my daughter and make wonderful waffles for my grandchildren. Yep, that's the ticket.