Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Pre-packaged Convenience Food, Can’t Compete With a Home Cooked Meal
English 101 Section: SA
(update 2012: Back when Kevin was 10 and since he was born, i'd made everything from scratch. This was such a joy for me. There was a time in my life I wanted to be a chef, or own a muffin/espresso wagon in Key West, go to the culinary school of the arts, I do not cook now like I did before. Kevin's much older and he never complains, but I can't wait to cook for him like I did in those days.)
It is seven in the morning, a Monday, and the day is dreary and wet. Kevin, an 8 year old boy, would rather snuggle up in his heavy, warm comforter than get into the shower.
Dad helps him into the now warm shower after letting the water run for a few minutes. Kevin starts to fall asleep standing up, the rhythmic pattering of warm water on his skin is now whisking him back into dreamland.
Kevin is now sitting at the table, chanting “I’m hungry, breakfast please!” Mom comes in with a bowl of cold Cheerios and a glass of cold milk. “Maaam!” he says in a long drawn out groan. “Cold Cereal?” he states, disappointedly. “Yes, little man, I’m sorry, I’m in a hurry and I must get going”, mom said, with a guilty tone.
Kevin did not have a great day at school on this particular Monday. He felt rushed and not as important as on the days that mom or dad take the time to make him a good home cooked breakfast and chocolate milk.
He had trouble paying attention in class. He seemed very distracted when the teacher would ask him questions. When he came home he was cranky and unreasonable with mom and dad.
It is seven in the morning, a Tuesday, and like the day before, dreary and wet. Kevin’s comforter is his sanctuary, warm and safe. He hears the shower and pulls the comforter over his head and drifts off to sleep again. Dad helps him to the shower, speaking in his sweet daddy voice, “Time to get clean, liggle boy”, as he affectionately calls him while helping him into the warm shower. The mild water beating gently on his skin feels good. A joyful grin takes over his face slowly as the smell of sausage fills the air.
Kevin is sitting at the table, in his bedroom, watching his favorite morning cartoon chanting, as he does most mornings “I’m hungry, breakfast please!”, but today mom enters the room with a steaming plate of savory sausage links, fluffy scrambled eggs, the eggs topped with his favorite seasonings, crispy wheat toast spread with strawberry jam, and an icy cold glass of chocolate milk.
“Hah hah hah”, he pants like a ravenous wolf, “no acting like puppy”, daddy say’s with a hint of pleasure in his voice. “It’s just that this is my favorite meal”, Kevin sings with great pleasure. He gobbles the sausage, laps up the scrambled eggs, munches down the toast and jam, and slurps down the cold chocolate milk.
School went great that Tuesday morning. The teacher said he was very focused on the activities that were assigned to him. He was in a cheerful mood that entire day. When he returned home he hung his jacket where it belonged, instead of tossing it on the floor, he asked, politely if he could watch TV and responded gracefully when mom said “not until after you practice your lessons on your guitar”.
Although it may not be convenient or even possible to make a home cooked breakfast, from scratch, every weekday morning, it sure seems worth it, to mom and dad, when they do make the time to do this. Kevin’s days almost always go by as seamlessly as a young boys day can when he starts his day with good home cooking instead of just a cold bowl of Cherrios.