The Best and The Worst Ever

The Best and the Worst Ever
By: Linda De Peel (c.)2008

When my husband and I were first married, we didn't have a lot of money. We scrimped and scraped and barely made ends meet. Even after my husband landed a job as a computer programmer/analyst we still had to watch our spending. That meant my husband didn't run across the street to Macky D's or the Gin Mill for lunch or dinner. He Brown Bagged it. I always tried to send sensible and nutritious lunches for him; he was 6'1" and only weighed 125 pounds. I would come up with interesting things, like my "ship-wreck stew", which he referred to as "second-time around stew", peanut butter and radish sandwiches (he actually enjoyed that).

One day he wanted a jello salad, but not just the plain old boring jello with fruit cocktail. He wanted "Pizzazz". No problem! Of course, all I had was jello and fruit cocktail, but I also had Cool Whip on hand. So I got busy, and mixed it all together. But after looking at it for a few minutes, I decided that it needed some more pizzazz. I looked in the pantry for food coloring, but all I had was blue. So I added it in, and I thought it didn't look too bad. I knew I could depend on my husband to comment on it. "Oh, this is like Mom always made!" Or: "Ugh! I wouldn't feed that to a stray dog!" I sent him off to work (he was working 2 pm-10pm for awhile).

He came home around 10:30 and said, "Honey, that Jello salad was wonderful--best I've ever eaten!"

"Really?" I said. "Well, I'll make more!"

"No, please don't!" Now he's messing with my head! Sometimes I could get into the Head Games, but sometimes not. Tonight was not the night for it.

"So, if it's so wonderful, why don't you want me to make more?" I demanded, feeling quite grumpy. "Just say what you mean!"

"Well--um--the Jello was good--real good. But there was a problem." He stared down at the floor, and I knew he was holding out on me. My voice cracked on him like a whip.

"What was wrong with the jello salad?"

"Well, um, people in the office said it looked really awful, and some of them thought I was eating spoiled food."

"What?" I screeched. "I would never--"

He held up a hand to call a truce. "Honey, believe me, it was really good, but the blue food coloring made it look like there was this huge layer of mold all over it. And, I, um, well-- I had to close my eyes to eat it, because it wasn't really appetizing to look at."

I felt all of three inches tall. I went out and looked at it again. It really did look bad. You see, I'd used grape-flavored jello, and apparently that made it worse.

So, anyone want to hire a cook?