Lunch of the Gods

This is still not a food blog.

But this lunch is so good!

When  Baboo got back from her mission to Canada she spoke about Canadian ramen noodles that were so much better than American ramen noodles.  She looked for them, but couldn’t find them here.  Then one day we were in an international store and she saw some and bought them.  She served them to the family for a meal soon thereafter and they were really good!

She continued to purchase them here and there and I always wanted some but rarely partook because she was buying them.  And then suddenly they were stocking them at Smith’s!  And I started buying them, too.  In fact, when we took our trip to D.C., we wanted to save money but weren’t sure about shopping in the area so we took a bunch of packets of these with us.  I LOVED eating them for lunch every day!

I call this photo, “Why These are Better Than Ramen Noodles.”  And can I just say, I actually like ramen noodles to begin with.  I love the texture and despite how unhealthy ramen noodles are, I throw in a handful of mixed veggies and feel like I just ate a good meal.  But in the IndoMie noodles, you get so much more than a package of chicken flavored MSG!  You get sweet soy sauce, chili sauce, seasoning oil, seasoning powder and fried onions.

Also, you completely drain the noodles.  With regular ramen noodles, they are served like a soup where eventually the noodles will absorb whatever water you included (I always halve the water because I hate that) and become gummy and disgusting.  But Indo mie noodles keep their awesome texture.  So if you ever had any leftovers, which I would find difficult to believe, they will be just as great later as now.

The flavor is so outrageously yummy.  I like a moderate amount of spice.  This is at the limits of my spice tolerance.  But the spice really enhances the flavors, not masks it.  And sometimes I think I’d like to drink a sip of milk after a bite, but I usually don’t because I really enjoy the flavors just hanging out on my tongue having their own little party.

I’ve been eating this meal every lunch for the past couple of weeks.  It’s easy, fast and to-die-for delicious.  And it’s probably not, but it just *feels* so much healthier than regular ramen.  (Please don’t tell me otherwise, just let me keep living in my little bubble.)  I usually make two eggs to go with it.  Whatever’s fastest.  Leftover scrambled from breakfast?  Sure!  Hard boiled eggs you made for kids’ lunches?  Yep.  Fried eggs just because?  You betcha!

But I always ate my other ramen with mixed veggies.  I knew that this dish would not let me down.  So today for the first time, I threw some vegetables in.  It was perfection.  I never need another lunch in my life.

I could eat these noodles all day every day, and it’s an effort to only eat one package per day at lunch time.  They cost .47 cents.  Which is three times what regular ramen noodles cost.  And worth every penny.

Looks almost like the picture on the package, no?

Also, apparently there are lots of different flavors.  I have only seen the original and the “hot & spicy”.  We couldn’t tell the difference in taste between the two.  But that’s ok, because this is all I need.

Overheard

Mack went to a fireside last night.  For refreshments afterwards, they served French macarons.  Generally in our family, we prefer things that are authentically French.  But Mack is apparently not a fan (none of us are, really) because he came home talking about “French abominations”.

On Not Having Any Other Options

Can’t go over it.  Can’t go under it.  Can’t go around it.  Gotta’ go through it.

So I had decided to go take a walk today.  I need the exercise and I probably also need to get out of the house.  I must admit that this October the weather has been gorgeous and has been almost completely lost on me.  It was going to be a four mile walk.  I know this because it is two miles to walk to our office and I needed to pick up mail there.

I done thunked a lot of thoughts while I was walking and there was a tentative thread of a theme there that is meaningful to me.  I am going to attempt to strengthen that fragility by verbalizing my thoughts.  I’m not entirely sure how to do that yet.  How to tie together all these random memories.  I guess we’ll see how this turns out.

When I was little, it was just me and my mom.  And boy howdy, did my mom know how to get things done.  There was no one else.  She didn’t have a large network of friends and family.  There was just me–a skinny, bony child with no muscles.  She and I did a lot of labor around our apartment/house.  Not like we were construction workers or anything, but if something needed to be done, we did it.  Looking back now I’m just amazed at the things my mom accomplished–the sheer amount of furniture that we loaded and unloaded into and from our car and hauled inside and moved around.  Sometimes we could only move it inches at a time.  But we got it done.

When I was first married, I prided myself in being able to do big, heavy jobs.  Often rearranging furniture while the Hubba was not even there.  Now, if I have a big job, I definitely ask my boys and my husband to do it.  I just don’t want to anymore.

When we had four littlies, I remember talking to my sister-in-law about a difficult situation she was facing and the crazy scheduling and ridiculous running around she was having to do on a daily basis to survive.  And there was no end in sight.  I don’t know how she did it.  That would have broken me.  For her part, she was amazed at what I was doing.  Which, at the time, was basically leaving my kids with a sitter for the day, driving 50 miles to another town to use the university library for a couple of hours  so that I could finish researching and writing my thesis.  Both of us, in our own circumstances, just kind of shrugged our shoulders.  What we were doing wasn’t amazing.  It just had to be done and this was how you did it.  There weren’t any other options.  But from the outside looking in, our circumstances looked really hard to each other.

I made it the two miles to the office easy peasy.  But the way back is more uphill and after about 1/4 mile I was wishing I was done.  I was really wishing I was done.  I kept wanting to stop.  But every time my body was like “I’m done” and really almost stopped against my will, my brain would be like “What are you going to do when you stop?”  There was no place to sit.  So was I just going to stand there on the side of the road like an idiot?  How was stopping going to get me home any sooner?  It wasn’t.  So I just kept on walking.

And that reminded me of one time during my brief “running career” in 2012 or so, I had run three miles and just had these horrible blisters.  The worst blisters I had ever gotten in my life.  Every time I took a step it felt like I was stepping on soggy marshmallows.  It hurt so bad.  But I still had three miles to get home.  I endured the blisters for maybe an entire mile before I just couldn’t stand it anymore.  I finally took off my shoes which was a welcome relief as it gave my foot space without rubbing and cooled off my hot feet.  And when I came to the little stream by the side of the road, I walked in the cold, wet grass for even further relief.  I desperately wished that someone would drive by and see me or that I had my phone so I could call for a ride.  But I was on my own.  No complaining or sitting was going to do me anything.  So I just kept on walking.

I met a couple in one of my childbirth classes while I was preparing to run my half marathon.  They had trained for and done a half marathon as well.  We were talking one day because I had used a running analogy in my childbirth class.  And after class they were talking to me about training for their half.  I mentioned that I had never done a “long run” and wasn’t quite sure I could pull that off.  They said that they drove in separate cars and dropped one car off at a spot and locked the keys inside.  Then they got in the one car and drove ten miles away and locked those keys in the car.  So now the only way they could get home or do anything was to run to the other car.  They couldn’t stop and call it quits in the middle.  I thought it was genius.

And really, that’s something that I noticed about myself.  When I was finally able to go for “longer” distances, I could easily do 3 miles.  But I only did 4-5 miles once or twice.  I just couldn’t consistently keep it up.  UNTIL I decided to start running to my jazzercise class five miles away.  Then suddenly, without much effort or training, I could just run 5 miles every day.  Because I had to get there.  What was I going to do at 8:15 in the morning at mile 3–go back home?  Stop and sit?  Call someone for a ride?  No.  I had to make it.  There was no other option.  And when I wanted to start cutting my time down, all I had to do was make sure I left later in the morning.  Because the class started at 9am.  If I wanted to be there on time, I was going to have to pick up the pace.  So I did.

When I finally did run the half marathon I was really nervous.  I never did do a longer training run than the five miles I was running 5 times a week.  13 miles is more than twice as long as that.  My goal was just to FINISH the course before they closed it and started rounding people up.  I ended up running something like 10 consecutive miles.  How on earth was that even possible when the longest I had ever run before was half of that?  And I only walked for 1.5 miles total.  Well of course, it helped that the entire course was downhill.  But still, what other option did I have?  We were on a mountain.  There was no one and nothing.  I had no option but to keep running down that mountain.  There was no food, no help, no rest any other place but the finish line.  So I just had to get there.  And running was the fastest way to accomplish that.

As I was walking, I was also thinking about yoga and how if I were still teaching childbirth classes, I would use a lot more yoga analogies.  I would probably suggest that there is a lot to be learned about how childbirth works by doing yoga.  So mentally I was pondering how far you could take a yoga analogy before it just didn’t work anymore.  And I was thinking that achieving a natural childbirth often has a lot to do with not having any other options.  I’ve always said in my classes that EVERYONE WILL HAVE A NATURAL CHILDBIRTH unless they actively decide not to.  Because childbirth is always “natural” unless you choose to intervene.  So if you do nothing, you will have a natural childbirth.  (Not going in to what exactly “natural” means right now.)  If there are no options, you will have an unmedicated birth.    So to go back to a running analogy, if you are trying to run a marathon and there is someone driving along side of you in an air conditioned vehicle constantly telling you how long you have been running, how long you have to go, telling you look exhausted and maybe you should take a ride in this van for the next however many miles, it’s going to be really hard to get in your groove and just do this difficult thing.  And in the end, if all you wanted to do was just get to the finish line, there’s no problem with using the vehicle.  But if you wanted to run a marathon, getting in the car isn’t going to do it for you.

On the other hand, if you have someone running with you, setting a pace, telling you what an amazing job you’re doing and how strong you are and keeping you hydrated and supplying you with energy gel, well you stand a better chance of finishing that marathon.  So in my experience, people who give themselves the option of medicalized birth often get exactly that because childbirth is hard and if the option is there to get around it, during one of the hard moments, you might choose not to go through it.  And people who put themselves in a position of non-medical interference (birth centers or home, midwives, etc…) are more likely to achieve a natural birth just because in the end, the option to get an epidural or whatever just isn’t readily available.

It’s the same with cooking, too.  The only reason we don’t eat out every night is because we are not independently wealthy.  If we were, I would either do a different restaurant or order in every night or we might hire a chef.  I’m not sure.  But since those aren’t legitimate options,  we have to cook a meal.  Almost every night.  There have been times when I have been a freaking miracle worker in my kitchen.  Times when I have no idea what on earth I can possibly make to feed 8 to 10 people today.  Many times I’m working with food storage food.  And if there were an option to go out and buy a pizza instead, I would have totally done it.  But instead, I had to dig deep and find a way to make that miracle.

I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with wanting to find an easier way or get out of doing something hard.  That’s how we innovate.  That’s what technology ultimately is.  That’s how we went from the stone age to the bronze age to the iron age and into the digital age.  Even Jesus Christ himself in Gethsemane  found himself sore amazed at the difficulty of atoning for everyone and asked if there was another way.  Can’t go over it.  Can’t go over under it.  Can’t go around it.  Gotta go through it.

I don’t know what my point is or what conclusions to draw from this line of thinking.  I guess sometimes things are just really hard.  And the only way we would ever choose to endure them is simply because there is no other option.  And I guess, secondarily, maybe there are goals we would like to achieve that we keep falling short of because when the going gets tough, we choose the other option.  So how can we remove those options so that the only way forward is through it?  Kind of like, dieters only fail because there is an abundance of forbidden food around them.  If you were living in an actual famine, you wouldn’t “fail” to lose weight.  So that’s an extreme example.  But maybe more than anything else, we need to change our environment.  So back to the whole weight loss example, I lost a lot of weight without even trying the summer we lived in Belgium because we didn’t have a car and I had to walk miles and miles just to go to the grocery store or to take the kids to the park.  I wasn’t very sure how much money we actually or whether things were expensive or not and so we were just buying the simplest ingredients to basically make three healthy, simple well rounded meals that we ate repeatedly without much variation.

Anyway, when there are no other options but to go through something unpleasant or difficult or challenging, there’s no point complaining or stopping along the way.  You might as well just keep walking and get to the end as fast as possible.

Descending further and further into the strange depths of vegetarianism

Over the years I have developed a limit to how much meat I can eat.  It’s extremely rare when we cook at home to ever have a main course of just meat.  We typically smaller portions of meat in a larger dish anyway.  Still, I am often picking the meat out of my food because it’s just too much meat.  The Hubba always points out that I don’t feel that way about beef.  Which is true.  But I can only take so much chicken.  And I definitely can’t eat like an entire piece of just chicken.  I feel the same way about pork, but that’s not surprising because I don’t actually like pork very much anyway.  The exception, of course, is bacon!

So except for bacon and beef, I just don’t enjoy meat very much.  No, that’s not quite right.  I really enjoy meat quite a bit–just in small quantities.  And preferably mixed with something else.  The only slab of meat I can eat straight is steak.

I’m not opposed to being vegetarian.  I just don’t particularly like vegetables enough to be able to envision myself eating only veggies and grains.  I’m not really that type of girl.  And I certainly don’t have any moral stance against meat-eating.  I just can’t do it personally.  It really grosses me out these days.

I really dislike lunch meat–especially ham, which used to be my favorite.  But I love a delicious sandwich with whole wheat bread, lettuce, spinach, cukes, garden fresh tomatoes, red onions, mayo and mustard (or tzaziki sauce).  And I guess lunch meat.  I actually hate the lunch meat part of it but psychologically can’t get past eating what essentially amounts to a salad sandwich if I were to just leave it out.

Anyway, like I have said I think three times already, this has never applied to beef.

Interestingly, about 15 years go we were doing a “thing” where we only ate meat one day a week.  It was really hard for me to cook without using meat at all.  One of our go-to meals, as you can imagine, was spaghetti.  The Hubba made his sauce with huge chunks of vegetables.  I do not like huge chunks of vegetables.  I like small vegetables.  My own sauce was nothing fancy, though.  Just meatless.  We ate spaghetti like that for quite a while and I thought the whole time that I just didn’t really like spaghetti.

And then some friends of ours invited us to their condo at a local resort town for a day.  They served us spaghetti.  The sauce was thick with ground beef and I felt bad for the for using so much meat when the dish could be easily served without meat and cost less and be healthier.  But when I tasted it, I discovered that I did actually really enjoy spaghetti and that meat is apparently a key ingredient in my enjoyment of it.  Who knew??

Anyway, I made spaghetti last week.  And I ALWAYS make it with ground beef because that is the only way I like it now.  And for the first time EVER, I was picking around the meat in my spaghetti, too.  I just couldn’t eat that much meat.  It was good.  I liked it a lot.  But I just could not.  It was too much meat.

So now, I guess this aversion to meat is spreading to even my favorites.  Bacon is the lone hold out now.  I kind of wish I felt this way about sugar.  Like Baboo and the Hubba.  They gets sugared out so easily and have super high standards about what treats they will and won’t eat because some just aren’t worth it.  For the record, my standards are really low.  And sometimes when there are no treats and I’m desperate, I just go for a spoonful of honey.

 

Overheard

While making lunch for the guys who got back from scout camp, I was about to add meat to a sandwich…

Kelvinator:  Can you not put meat on mine?  We had meat with every meal this week.  I just can’t eat anymore.

The Best Things About Summer So Far

1.  Bottomless bowls of salsa and chips.  For years now I have tried to enjoy salsa.  I love it when we go to Mexican restaurants.  But in the grocery store I can only buy picante sauce.  Even jars that are labeled as “salsa” are really still picante sauce.  I used to like picante sauce.  But I just can’t enjoy that vinegary sweetness anymore.  I just can’t.

   So what’s a girl to do except ask her facebook friends for help?  I got suggestions of different salsas to try and then we had an informal taste test.  Everyone who participated chose Organic Jack’s Cantina style salsa from Costco as the hands down winner.

   Pretty much, I have just kept a bowl of salsa on the island and a larger bowl of tortilla chips next to it each day.  When it gets low I fill it back up again.  We graze on chips and salsa all day, every day now.  I particularly like the feeling on my tongue that lingers for up to 20 minutes after I have last eaten salsa.  It’s a tingly sort of alive feeling that makes me decide to go back for more!

2. Points.  I used to have grandiose ideas about how organized and amazing our summers were going to be and I always tried to institute these plans that would fail spectacularly.  And that eventually led to me not planning anything during the summers–just enjoying the free time and lazy days of doing nothing.

   Which pretty much drove the Hubba INSANE to spend a full work day working his tail off and discover we had all squandered our days in the worst possible ways.  But we never had been able to find anything that worked.  (I recently read a blog post that said that large families can use any of a variety of different types of management systems that will all fail without a good manager–that would be me.  I am not a good manager of children.)

   But this summer is different.  The Hubba instituted a point system.  I didn’t even really know about it until after the fact when the kids were asking me about how many points something were worth.  Is that what that paper on the fridge was?  Anyway, the kids get points for doing things.  Scripture study.  Exercise.  Chores. Playing outside.  Reading books. Basically whatever we want.  For instance, Kelvinator is earning points by organizing a Foosball tournament among his friends.  And last night, the three youngest kids played for 90 minutes together in the basement just screaming and having fun.  POINTS!  The points are random, too.  We just make it up as we go.  If we really want them to do something, we give more points for it.  IF it’s something they probably want to go do anyway, fewer points.  Even the same activity doesn’t even get the same points every day.

   They keep track of their points on a piece of paper taped up to the wall.  It’s purely on the honor system, though.  They don’t actually have to write down what they did.  Just the points they earned.  So we have these papers filling up our walls of pure addition.

   Then, on a random day and time of his choosing, the Hubba gives out awards for points.  The kids get one M&M for every 100 points.  You heard that right.  So for instance, the day my kids spent 2.5 hours at the sand dunes making forts?  We gave them 188 points for that.  Or 2 M&Ms.

   Oh my gosh, the kids are LOVING it.  And it’s the easiest system we have ever used.  And so far, this may be the best, most productive summer ever.

Summer Shopping

Years ago, when I got tired of hearing kids constantly telling me they were hungry and asking food, I had the idea that they could purchase and ration their own snacks.  Then when they were hungry, they would have their own stash and didn’t need to bother me about it.

It kind of worked.

What didn’t work was that it was crazy trying to help so many kids at the store to make good choices and manage their own budget.  What also didn’t work was that some of the kids were so little that they weren’t participating and they didn’t understand why older siblings could eat certain treats that they could not.

But this year, when I had the thought that I didn’t want to hear anyone tell me they were hungry again, it was quickly followed by the realization that now they are all old enough to participate and understand.  Score!

Today was the day.  We went to the grocery store and they each had their own cart.  They also each had a budget I had given them of $22 each.  The rules were that this food was to last them for a month and they could not buy soda or candy.  Some of them wanted to buy some fresh fruit but I told them that I would buy fresh fruit because I knew it would not last for a month and also I did feel some obligation as the person who had brought them into mortality to provide them with fresh produce.

Anyway, it was really cool.  I started off with the little girls while the boys went their way.  But even that was cumbersome and difficult so Pink went off by herself while I helped Winkleberry.  But eventually I worked my way around to helping all the kids.  They enjoyed seeing what the others had chosen and getting ideas from each other.

I got to show them that for the price of purchasing two individual containers of cereal, they could purchase an entire box of cereal.  And that for the price of two little bottles of milk, they could buy a whole gallon of milk.   I loved asking them about what they bought and then double checking the area.  Several times I was able to point out deals that would provide them with a similar product for $1-$3 less.  They were always willing to trade for the cheaper thing and then go buy something else with their savings.  Once we were comparing weights and prices and I was able to show them that purchasing two smaller items would actually get them more for their money than purchasing the one larger item (of all stupid things).

We checked out in four separate transactions and they each took their own receipt, wheeled their carts to the car and loaded their own groceries.  When we got home, they unloaded their things themselves, labeled their items with stickers and put them away.  All refrigerated or freezer items were put away in their respective places and pantry items were placed in tubs and are stored in food storage.

But the learning still continues.  As soon as we got home, one of the kids asked if they could eat their snacks.  I said when they eat their food is up to them.  But, it was lunch time.  And maybe they wanted to eat the lunch that I would prepare to fill their tummies and save their snacks for another time.  They all decided to wait.

Anyway, Kelvinator especially just kept thanking me profusely.  He had so much fun shopping for himself and picking out what he wanted.  So I hope it’s a good thing and that maybe we can keep it up.

Homemade Chubby Hubby

One night when Baboo was just a toddler and we were living in Phoenix (we only lived there for a few months), the Hubba and I went out on a date night.  Somethings I remember very vividly.  Others I have forgotten.  For instance, I don’t remember the grocery store we went to or how we came to decide on purchasing a container of Chubby Hubby.  I can imagine that it might have had something to do with the fact that I LOVED Ben and Jerry’s cookie dough ice cream and my roommate and I practically lived off of the stuff once we discovered it.  There was always cookie dough ice cream in our freezer that semester.  But the Hubba isn’t a big fan of it.  So maybe the Chubby Hubby was a compromise of sorts.

I remember that we went to Encanto Park to talk and eat it.  I remember how dark it was and the weird yellow light.  What I remember most about that date night was our wreckless indifference to sharing the ice cream fairly as we locked in mortal combat for those chunks of peanut butter-filled, chocolate-coated pretzels suspended in vanilla ice cream.  It was so good and it was gone much too fast, leaving us wanting more.  So much more.

Since that time, Chubby Hubby is a special treat for us.  But now we always buy multiple containers.   The last time I purchased Chubby Hubby was when it was on sale for just $.50 a few months ago.  Which is a total steal considering the ridiculous usual price of more than $4 for a measly 2 cups of ice cream.  I got like 40 containers and we feasted on that for a long time.

Unfortunately, the company that Ben and Jerry’s purchased those peanut-butter filled, chocolate coated pretzels….well I can’t remember.  They went out of business or their standards didn’t meet what Ben and Jerry wanted.  So now Chubby Hubby is just chocolate coated pretzels with peanut butter ribbons in the vanilla ice cream.  And it’s still good.  But it’s only a shadow of it’s former glory.

Tonight I decided to make treat for the fam for dinner.  And only after I created it did I realize that it was homemade Chubby Hubby.  Everybody loved it and it was so, so simple.  And honestly not nearly as expensive as Ben and Jerry’s.

Homemade Chubby Hubby

1.  Fill a 6-8 oz mug with a spoonful of peanut butter (I didn’t measure, but I’d say mine was 1 to 1 1/2 TBSP)
2. Drop in some chocolate chips (I estimate I used about 15-20)
3. Heat in microwave for 30 seconds until melted.
4. Add in a handful of pretzels (approximately 6?), broken in half
5. Stir until pretzels are coated.
6. Top with a largish scoop of vanilla ice cream (we pretty much only buy Breyer’s when it’s on sale)

Feast and Famine

Back in April, our bishopric announced that during the month of May, we were going to be having a rolling fast for missionary work.  They wanted each family to take a day in May where they would fast for that purpose.  By the time I signed up, all of the weekend days were accounted for.  So I chose the 18th.

As the fast drew nearer, the girls who had never fasted on a non-Sunday before were concerned about how that would work.  They had a good point.  All of the kids who have fasted during a weekday have been high school students.  We’ve never had elementary school kids fasting before.  So we thought that maybe they could start their fast after lunch on Tuesday and then break their fast with lunch on Wednesday.  That way they wouldn’t have to deal with what to do at lunch time if you’re fasting.  I suggested we also talk to Dad to get some ideas.

In talking with the Hubba, we were concerned about these little girls who would be fasting three times in one month!  Was it really necessary?  Should they do a full fast or an abbreviated fast?  Or not fast at all?  If they do fast, what is the best way to handle lunch at school?  Wink had only fasted twice before in her life!  We didn’t come up with any answers.

Then before I knew it, it was Tuesday night already.  And we hadn’t gotten back to the girls about starting their fast earlier that day and now it was too late.  So we all ate dinner.  The Hubba and I still weren’t sure how to counsel the little girls so we decided to leave it up to them and their faith.  When we were tucking them in bed last night, we talked about their options and they both independently decided to do full fasts.  It was so amazing to see such burgeoning faith and power.  That even when we, their parents, gave them alternatives to limit their sacrifice, they held themselves to the higher standard.

In the end, the girls chose to break their fasts shortly after getting home from school, which was just two hours short of a full 24 hour fast.  And they did that at school, during lunch time, during recess.  All for missionary work.

Usually I try to make an extra special dinner for when we break a fast.  So I had plans to make this great meal.  And I started getting it in the crock pot at noon.  I wanted it to be so yummy and filling!  And there was a point during the day when I realized that Pink and Wink will have already eaten, Baboo is going on a date and won’t be here, X works Wednesday evenings so he will break his fast in the middle of his work shift, Hubba, Kelvinator and Mack are leaving for a scout activity at 4:30 and won’t be back until after 7.  So you know who’s going to enjoy this warm, yummy, filling meal?  Me.

And I tell you what, if I had thought ahead and realized I would be the only one eating, I would have just made myself a PBJ!

Also, I really LOVED this morning–not having to worry about breakfast or lunches meant I got to sleep in late and still just enjoy the morning with family stress-free!

Sometimes Customer Service Works

I have a history of being on hold for hours on the phone trying to take care of things and ending the phone call frustrated.  There have been precious few instances of great customer service in my life.  I am hoping that this interaction will be one of those.

I emailed Daily Bread to tell them how repulsive their strawberry creamed what was and asked if I could have a refund.  You know, they sell this stuff as “food insurance” and pretty much we all preferred fasting.  Two days later I got a phone call back from a customer service rep who apologized and offered to have UPS come pick up our entire line of breakfast foods to take back to the lab for testing and they would replace it with 13 fresh cans from their new line.

So we picked out some new food and everything is ready to go tomorrow.  Except that I can’t find the packing tape!  You have no idea how tremendously repetitive this is.  Every single time I need packing tape, I can never find any.  So I go to the store to buy a brand new roll and then use it for my purpose.  But the next time I need packing tape, I have to go to the store again.  I should have 14 rolls of packing of tape around here someplace.  But instead, I will probably have to make an early morning run for tape in order to have things ready for when the UPS guy shows up.