Every time I make macaroni and cheese I flash back to to an evening at my pal Mark's house when he measured out the six cups of water that the instructions called for. He was mocked by our lady -type friends at the time as there was no real need to measure the water; it gets drained off anyway. I sided with Mark as I did the same thing. They laughed at us and I thought it odd for a number of reasons. It was mostly strange to me to see women trying to be worse than men, or meaner. Besides, there was better things to make fun of us about than that and they knew it.
As for me, I stopped measuring the water. I couldn't stop thinking about it though.
I wish there was a smart-aleck ending for the story like that they were both later crushed to death by undercooked macaroni but, to the best of my knowledge, no such thing occurred. Maybe I'll start thinking of that instead.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Ah yes good times my friend. No smart alecky comment needed. I too have stopped measuring the water. I think it was after said day actually.
Post a Comment