"Feed me!" --Little Shop of Horrors

[Do I really need to explain this?]


When I was a child, food was important in my family. Food was love. And, so, when the food was ready, we ate. Because why would we want to reject Mom?

So, fine, we ate. And we ate well. My mother made some great food and we enjoyed it. As soon as it was ready.

I have never broken this habit. In present day, Hubby tends to want to eat all of the prepared foods together. I've heard that some people call this a meal. And that's great if it's all ready at the same time. But you know what? If the garlic bread is ready and the fish isn't? I'm eating the garlic bread. I AM! You don't want to eat yours, that's fine. I'm eating mine. Because cold garlic bread = FAIL.

Hubby has learned not to come between me and food. It's dangerous. You know, like when you feed the tiger: you don't put the chicken carcass down and then stand between the tiger and the carcass to ask how the tiger is enjoying his summer. You fling the chicken at the tiger and run for your life.

This works for us.

But, see, technically, I'm an adult. And sometimes I get invited to dinner or other social functions that involve food. And you know what? Some people put food out--in plain sight!--and then wait to eat it. I swear. It happens. (I was surprised, too.)

And this sucks. Because even though, yeah, I look like an adult, there's this kid inside of me screaming "FOOD! It's ready! It looks good! It smells good! I WANT FOOD!"

You want to know the worst form of this torture? Baby showers. There are always baby showers at work and, if you know the person, there is pressure to attend.

Here's how it goes down. We all gather in the conference room 15 minutes before the official time. We sit in chairs around a huge conference table that is groaning with food. And we wait. And we wait. And, meanwhile, we chat, animatedly, with people we have no choice but to see every day, as if they are long lost friends.

And then there's the inevitable "SURPRISE!!!" moment, usually 15 minutes after the appointed time. And then there's the "Did you know you were getting a party? Did you have any idea?" "Nooooo! How did you all keep it a secret?!"

And then there's the seating of the mother-to-be in the special chair. You know it is special because it has one balloon tied to it.

And sometimes the father-to-be has shown up, too, or the mother-to-be's mother, and so he/she has to be introduced to everyone in the room, individually.

And then there's the gifts. And the oooing and aaaahhhing over the gifts. And the "Isn't that darling!" And the "I had those and they came in so handy!" And the "What was that one? I missed that one." And the holding up of the gifts for the camera. And the passing around of the gifts.

And then there's the stupid party game. Is it the hat made of the bows on a paper plate? Is it the read what the recipient said after each gift was opened with "in bed" after it? Is it both?

And then there's more pictures.

And, because I'm such a sensitive, nurturing, people person, all this time, I'm thinking "FOOD! Get to the #$@&ing FOOD!"