Why are cheese slices square but deli meats round?
It’s the big issues that worry my head on a Monday.
I’m currently listening to my beautiful beloved ranting at a Toll reminder notice, silently thinking about the Tolls I racked up in the trip to and from Sydney over the weekend. It’s good to be home.
The thing about the cheese and the deli meats occurred to me for one reason or another just a moment ago, but now it has reminded me of my Dad, and how he used to make our sandwiches for school. The family favourite was chicken loaf, closely followed by tomato sauce sandwiches. He even had a preferred fillings list that he taped to the bench, and every morning we’d trundle off to school, knowing that our sandwiches were going to be edible.
My brother and I were quite young when we were playing outside one weekend. I’m not sure why but we ran inside to make sandwiches, which then were stuffed into brown paper bags and shoved onto a rock while we rode our bikes on the driveway. He’s four years younger than me. We rode our bikes and performed skids and used one hand then no hands in our ever extending quest for greatness. Being someone who lived in their little creative imaginary world, I remember drifting away to a place where I was a member of the T Birds, from Grease. Remember those guys?
What I discovered while I was searching for that image was who Sandra Dee is! She was an actress who portrayed nice, virginal girls. Aren’t you glad I am so easily distracted?
Now, why I wanted to be a T Bird and not a Pink Lady has become clear (T Birds get the girls, der). However I was so caught up in my imaginations I didn’t notice what my brother was up to. So when we threw our bikes to the ground, grabbed our sandwiches and sat down on the grass to eat, I had no idea what he was giggling at.
I too a bite of the sandwich, and I remember feeling quite puzzled. I chewed, swallowed. Something was wrong with my Vegemite. I took another bite. Chewed. Opened my mouth, letting the sandwich therein drop to the grass. Had I put the paper bag inside the sandwich? How did I get dirt in there?
At this point my brother began to giggle.
I didn’t want him to know that I realised I had been pranked, so I never asked him about it. I actually don’t recall how the situation ended. But I do know I never conceded defeat.
I can still taste whatever the fuck it was he hid in my sandwich. And I remember the texture, too. The resources available to him offer me some comfort, knowing that at worst, it would have been dirt.
I’m pretty sure it wasn’t on Dad’s list of preferred fillings, though.
Have you ever eaten something that you shouldn’t have? By accident, or on purpose?