Ça Plane Pour Moi
It's 7:58 A.M. and Mom sounds awful.
Tata: What's the matter? Is Grandpa dead?
Mom: No. Is Grandpa dead?
Tata: What? Why are you crying?
Mom: I'm not crying. I have a cold.
Tata: You sound dreadful.
Mom: I've had an adventure and there's no one else to tell.
Tata: I'm on pins and needles. Tell!
Mom: I just made rice crispy treats.
Tata: Why, God, why?!
Mom: I heated marshmallows until they turned into - what is that stuff?
Tata: Fluff?
Mom: Yes. Fluff. A piping hot cauldron of Fluff. I poured in the rice crispies and tried folding them in with a spatula. Do you know what happens next?
Tata: You're overcome by the terror of the Abyss?
Mom: That stuff cools so quickly you can't believe it and forms spider webs. It also sticks to everything. It stuck to the spatula.
Tata: You have Anya's and Corinne's little boys today, don't you? I thought you were going to introduce them to the chemistry of baking?
Mom: Yes, but I thought they needed rice crispy treats to sustain them. Whew! Grandmotherin' is hard work!
Tata: I'm shocked! What happened next?
Mom: I used another spatula to get the treats off the first spatula but it didn't work and the spider webs were all over everything. I did the only thing I could do.
Tata: Cleaned your kitchen with a flame thrower?
Mom: I sprayed both my hands with canola oil, tested the temperature and stuck my hands in the crunchy marshmallow. Then I remembered you're supposed to press them flat with wax paper.
Tata: It's my belief that Kellogg's is a wholly owned subsidiary of Exxon/Mobil and
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Mom: I used the cocoa crispies. I figured I could as easily add some chocolate to this affair as use the plain.
Tata: The polar bears will be pleased!
Mom: Grandmothering is not for the faint of heart!
This is the same person who corrected my grammar at the dinner table until I turned 18 and beat a path for Anywhere Else. She couldn't help it. Later, I realized that I still didn't know - excuse me - shit about good grammar and tried studying. I learned a few things. It's all been terribly awkward since I started forgetting the names of things, which left me with no idea how to demonstrate grammatical right and wrong and great curiosity about the structure and function of language. Yesterday, I watched with rapt attention as a professor of Italian literature lectured on sentence structure on popular television series Sportello Italiano. Let's be completely clear: I don't speak Italian. I understood most of what the professor was saying and that he was funny. Still, I couldn't believe I was watching gorgeous people diagram sentences on international television, so it should come as no surprise that Mom now calls to describe her antics.
Tata: I've got to get back to work now. Have some tea. Glad Grandpa's not dead!
Mom: Me, too. I've got two little boys in half an hour who expect to bake cookies.
Tata: Good luck with that. Wait, why are you filling these boys with sugar?
Mom: Rice crispy treats are part of their heritage and I'm here to help.
Tata: You're going to make it impossible for Anya and Corinne to leave grocery stores without ingredients, aren't you? Confess!
Mom: Do you know what's hard work? Because I could tell you...
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