When you crave a food nothing tastes better. And nothing is worse than having the food you crave in your reach only to see it tumble to the floor. It is enough to make a grown woman openly weep. To have been so close only to fall so far from the goal. It's devastating... Until a replacement is made and eaten at which point... Oh man, I'm so sorry, I must have seemed like a crazy person just then. Oh wow this food is good. That is of course assuming anyone was there to observe this mini culinary soap opera.
My day had gotten to a rough start, arguably I was just too tired to even be attempting food preparations, but I was hungry. So instead of napping while my son napped, I was in the kitchen heating up leftover taco in the microwave. Beep! Food's done. I pull out the plate, and it's not even like I have the excuse of it being hotter than I thought it would be. Temperature-wise the plate is fine, I got to set it down on the counter and... miss. Gravity takes effect and the plate of food does a half rotation before splatting horribly onto the floor. The taco somehow managed to open itself up completely and landed shell up. The plate broke neatly into two pieces.
I cried. I had not gotten hurt. I sobbed. I didn't even care about the plate. I openly wept. The taco! I hadn't fully realized how badly I had wanted to eat it until after it had become a greasy mess on the floor... The last taco... gone... un-salvageable... heartbreaking...
All this happened while my son napped. Oblivious to the turmoil and drama just down the hall. I thought to myself... "I need to stop crying so I can go buy more tacos!" but even with an incentive as strong as the tacos it was hard to calm down. I started packing the diaper bag, and checking to make sure I had bus fare. Just as I start to ponder how I feel about waking my son for the sake of tacos... I love when he sleeps... I need tacos... He woke up.
Soon we are on our way. Though taco places exist both up hill and down, I was only thinking of the up hill tacos and the down hill bus had just passed while I was still a block and a half from the bus stop. So up the hill. Just as I near the cross walk to get to the bus... it passes... not even stopping to let off passengers... If all of this could have happened two minutes faster. I would have made the bus. Luckily the bus goes every twenty minutes or so. So the wait only felt like an eternity to a stomach that was resenting not having had a taco fifteen minutes ago.
Finally we get to the place of tacos, and there is a line. And my son is fussing. But we finally manage to place our order. (I ordered way more food than I was going to eat, but it was a to go order so they gave us bags.) I ate one taco there, offered some food to my son who snubbed it, and then packed it all up and went home. Thus bringing the taco adventure to a close.
My day had gotten to a rough start, arguably I was just too tired to even be attempting food preparations, but I was hungry. So instead of napping while my son napped, I was in the kitchen heating up leftover taco in the microwave. Beep! Food's done. I pull out the plate, and it's not even like I have the excuse of it being hotter than I thought it would be. Temperature-wise the plate is fine, I got to set it down on the counter and... miss. Gravity takes effect and the plate of food does a half rotation before splatting horribly onto the floor. The taco somehow managed to open itself up completely and landed shell up. The plate broke neatly into two pieces.
I cried. I had not gotten hurt. I sobbed. I didn't even care about the plate. I openly wept. The taco! I hadn't fully realized how badly I had wanted to eat it until after it had become a greasy mess on the floor... The last taco... gone... un-salvageable... heartbreaking...
All this happened while my son napped. Oblivious to the turmoil and drama just down the hall. I thought to myself... "I need to stop crying so I can go buy more tacos!" but even with an incentive as strong as the tacos it was hard to calm down. I started packing the diaper bag, and checking to make sure I had bus fare. Just as I start to ponder how I feel about waking my son for the sake of tacos... I love when he sleeps... I need tacos... He woke up.
Soon we are on our way. Though taco places exist both up hill and down, I was only thinking of the up hill tacos and the down hill bus had just passed while I was still a block and a half from the bus stop. So up the hill. Just as I near the cross walk to get to the bus... it passes... not even stopping to let off passengers... If all of this could have happened two minutes faster. I would have made the bus. Luckily the bus goes every twenty minutes or so. So the wait only felt like an eternity to a stomach that was resenting not having had a taco fifteen minutes ago.
Finally we get to the place of tacos, and there is a line. And my son is fussing. But we finally manage to place our order. (I ordered way more food than I was going to eat, but it was a to go order so they gave us bags.) I ate one taco there, offered some food to my son who snubbed it, and then packed it all up and went home. Thus bringing the taco adventure to a close.
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