Pop in the Kitchen: Part I

At this stage in pop's life simple pleasures are the riches of life. A box of raisin bran is a source of great delight. "You can't beat this stuff," he says with relish in his voice, tapping on the box top. Meal time, snacking, food anything to do with food is the all of end all's, Nirvana, bliss, the high light of every day ... especially dinner time.

Around 4:30 he starts to get restless. If I am at the computer or somewhere in the house other then in the kitchen he will find me and begin to engage me with comments like, "How is your day going?" Or "Is there anything I can do to help?" What he is really saying is, "I am getting a bit nervous because I don't see you in the kitchen."

As soon as I do make my way to the kitchen he starts in, "Can I help?" When I say, "No." He continues, "Well, if there is anything I can do just let me know." "Thanks, pop." This continues until I come up with some creative method of removing him from the room or I simply lose my cool and point in exasperation for him to LEAVE THE ROOM. I'm finding that I can turn on the news and get him side tracked for a few minutes before I hear again, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Once I call, "come and get it" the exclamations begin. "Oh, boy ... sure smells good ..." and once the meal commences the scenario is right out of the Bill Murry movie, What About Bob? From pop's direction we hear sounds like "MMMM".... mmmm .... mmmm, "Oh, boy this is good," repeat, repeat, repeat. Under his breath we'll hear him say with great sincerity, "thank you Jesus, oh, boy."

Now after hearing this you would think that I am the world's greatest cook. Perhaps I was even beginning to believe his press. But one evening that bubble was soundly popped. In a rush to get his meal on the table before he exploded I ran to the refrigerator, which looked like Old Mother Hubbard's cupboard. In desperation I pulled out from the freezer a box of off-brand chicken tenders, microwaved them, dumped some soy sauce on them, threw a few canned green beans on the plate along with some form of a potato concoction and put it front of him. "From first bite to last, gourmet all the way, Jude" is what I heard. The accolades did not cease. "Boy this is good. Gourmet all the way!!!! Thank you, Jude. This is really gourmet!"

What can I say? The man is easy to please.