Squirt of Ketchup Anyone?

A box of Cheerios breakfast cereal.

A box of Cheerios breakfast cereal. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Here’s what I had for dinner tonight: a few handfuls of stale Cheerios out of the box, a couple of olives out of the jar, and a couple of squirts of chocolate sundae syrup from Nabisco’s’ new no-mess squirt container. I topped it off with a glass of OJ, no pulp. My talent for whipping up a meal knows no bounds.

I did study the refrigerator to see if there was something palatable for dinner. Here’s what I found: 3 Coronas and an old, dried up lime, a cored pineapple in a round, plastic container that was molding in its juice, an assortment of dried up breads, and some romaine lettuce–the kind you can grill, which I really want to try, but do not own a grill.

Now you see why I stalk this woman’s blog, Everyday Occasions. I want her to make avocado and tomato flowers for me, too.

Remember the new pope recently saying that it should be a criminal offense for people to throw away food? Well, that is one crime I am not committing. Wonder what he had for dinner?

Here’s the deal. I live alone. Well, the 19 year old lives with me, but he’s never here, and he always eats with his girlfriend’s family. Which sometimes I handle very well. Other times, not so well. I secretly think he prefers eating with them because they’re still a family, and at least he gets to be part of their family since his family is kaput. And, even though everyone says you’re still a family when you get a divorce, here’s what I have to say about that. They don’t know what they’re talking about.

But mostly, I am just glad the 19 year old is eating somewhere, and I don’t have to cook.

My friend, Kristi, is a vegan. A very serious vegan. She knows things about food you do not want to know. It is horrifying. If I told you, you’d never eat again, and you’d have nightmares for weeks. I’ll spare you. But on my new journey to somewhere (I don’t know where yet), I imagine myself a vegan. Because it makes me skinny. And, because I really don’t like meat anymore. When I eat it, I just feel like ICK.

So, I picture myself all healthy and bright-eyed because I eat this strictly vegan diet, and I am really, really smart about the whole thing. Like I know why I am not eating soy. Which I thought was healthy for you until Kristi said no, it is  not, but I have already forgotten why, though she was quite eloquent on the subject.

So, I see myself eating vegan, and being divorced, and moving forward in my life (which in my picture is pretty glamorous), and everyone being secretly jealous of me because I’m vegan and skinny, and don’t have to cook for a husband who only eats meat and starches. Or, worse, I’m not cooking for a husband with high cholesterol. Try to figure out something healthy that guy will eat, right?

So, I know what you’re thinking, WELL THEN DO IT. I tried. But Kristi refused to cook for me every night. I blame her for the squirt of chocolate, three olives and handfuls of Cheerios. I mean, shouldn’t those who can, feed those who can’t? Doesn’t Scripture say something about feeding the least of these? Kristi, are you reading this?


I am having a bit of an epiphany over here about feeding myself. I’m asking myself the question, how do I want to eat? I’ve never considered that question before, though feeding oneself is likely the most important thing we do each day. The way I fed myself previously was to eat whatever the ex was eating because arguing with him (Mr, Everything Healthy Tastes Like Stale Cardboard) was exhausting. So, I caved and ate the Kentucky Fried Chicken, Bojangles and oh yeah, the real man’s fast food, Hardee’s. I cooked what three guys would eat, and let me tell you, that is a limited palate that does not include vegetables, or as the oldest son said when he was three, “vegables.”

So, here I sit starving, and wondering what food to feed myself, and way too darn tired to fix anything after five days of work. And, there isn’t a “vegable” in the house, so I’m a long way from vegan at the moment. My guess is Sonic will win the day because I do love their tator tots, but hey, it ain’t Hardee’s.