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I was so depressed about living life in the slow lane that I had a craving for comfort food. I told Dave, when he came home last night, “I want to make Mac-N-Cheese.” He replied, “Today that bad?”
“You mean last night that ran over today crushing it with bleary eyed wakefulness? You mean with no naps for a very cranky Lady Muck, who hates her casts? Yes, it was that bad.” I replied getting up to start on dinner. Dave has clearly transcended his husband training status because at this he said nothing.
I started to pull out ingredients realizing I had forgotten how to make it. I called Mom to ask her how. And what had she just popped into the oven but the very same dish. For the record, you cook the noodles and cheese sauce beforehand to ensure all live enzymes and germs are dead and to allow the Trans-fats to properly rev up their carcinogenic properties. Then you bake this 1960’s delicacy topped with Ritz for another 50 minutes.
When my Mom told me she was making the same thing at first I thought it was one of those cool synergistic moments when you know you are on the same wavelength with someone else. It’s really fun when it happens with your husband or say, someone like, Stephen Hawking or Madonna. But when it happens with your mom, who as it turns out, is living in the parallel universe next to yours….
Oh Gods of TIVO, please take me off pause and switch the channel!