Today it was either another heavy topic (Boston Marathon) or something more lighthearted. I think the last two post have been more serious, so I'm going to go with the more frivolous of the two options: Embarrassing Moments.
Enjoy!
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My response:
I peered over my roommate's shoulder as she buttered the top of her sandwich. "What are you doing?" I asked.
"Making a grilled cheese sandwich." She didn't even look up as she licked butter from her fingers.
My brain didn't comprehend it. I'd made grilled cheese sandwiches in my day, and I'd never used butter. "With butter?"
Responding to my tone, she looked up at me and replied with the same amount of snark. "Yes, with butter. What else would I use?"
"Well, Miracle Whip." I said, completely, one hundred percent confident of my answer. Every grilled cheese sandwich I'd ever made in my life, I'd made with Miracle Whip.
It earned me a pair of raised eyebrows and wide eyes. "WHAT?! Ew. Why would you use Miracle Whip?! I've always used butter."
I turned to the rest of our roommates, lounging in the kitchen and living room, to find backup. "You make grilled cheese sandwiches with Miracle Whip, not butter, right guys?"
The rest of my roommates stared at me, eyes wide as their heads shook.
"No."
"Never."
"I've always used butter."
And then it dawned on me that I was the odd one. "Really?"
Only then did it occur to me that, having a dad who was allergic to dairy products, maybe I'd grown up with a non-dairy substitute. And yes, I was the crazy one.
It was at the end of a long day of orchestra performances for a state competition, and I was tired and ready to go home. Traveling from Woods Cross, Utah down to Cedar City would take several hours, and I didn’t look forward to sitting that long on the stinky, creeky bus, but at least there was that cute guy who had finally seemed to take notice of me.
ReplyDeleteAll the girls had been forced to wear long, black dresses for the competition, torture in the late spring heat. We’d all brought comfortable clothing to change into for the ride home. I’d chosen my worn, comfy jeans and a new, bright crimson t-shirt that I thought looked good on me. Every stall in the nearest bathroom was taken, and I didn’t want to change out in the open area of the restroom like some of the other girls, so I waited. By the time a stall was empty and I darted inside, our teacher was hollering to ‘get in the bus already, girls!’ So I threw on my clothing and darted for the bus.
I thought I saw a few strange looks and caught some giggles, but I tried to ignore them. They were from students from competing schools, after all, and the relationship between the schools that day hadn’t exactly been friendly. Then, I saw him. He saw me, smiled, looked me up and down, his face froze a second, and then…he laughed. I finally looked down. Not only had I neglected to zip my fly, but a bit of my crimson t-shirt was sticking out of the gaping opening in the front of my jeans. Crud. It was a long bus ride home.