Peering into my parents' refrigerator after a semester away at college was like putting on 3-D glasses and turning off the lights: Everything looked good.
From the soggy chocolate cake my mom bought eight days ago to the solidified gobs of cream in a leftover dish of fettuccine alfredo, my culinary choices were prime.
After closing the refrigerator door, I bounded up the stairs to my bedroom. Digging into my dresser drawers, I found my trusty pair of pajama pants. With their fuzzy exterior and astoundingly elastic band, I knew they'd be the perfect accompaniment on the adventure to follow.
As I darted back into the kitchen, I grabbed a magazine from the living room. This could take a while. With fork in hand and food on my mind, I was officially ready to engage in one of the most intense feasting fests of my life. Let the games begin!
I pulled out the refrigerated cinnamon raisin bagels, cream cheese, a wedge of unidentifiable cheese, strawberries, cooked salmon and spinach. From there, I moved to the ""junk drawer,"" where I scooped up chocolate-covered peanuts, ""slightly salty"" potato chips, butter cookies and cinnamon graham crackers. Then, I shuffled over to the cabinets where I searched for the right-sized plate.
Turning around, I surveyed the choices I made.
Salty? Check.
Sugary? Check.
Healthy? Check.
Four months old? Double check.
I scampered over to the table, chose a little bit of each and put them on a plate. The resulting heap was the size of a camel's hump and gosh, did that make me smile.
I dug my fingers into a bagel, dipped it into the cream cheese and swallowed. Heaven, pure heaven. After several seconds, I felt myself entering a hypnotic state; the world around me disappeared. All I could hear was the slight buzzing of a voice upon my shoulder saying, ""Eat. Eat! You must make up for lost time!""
I unevenly cut up the cheese and salmon, all with the nervousness of a teenaged boy about to unhook his girlfriend's bra. Then, I shoved handfuls of chocolate-covered peanuts and ""slightly salty"" potato chips into my mouth. Sweet and salty... who knew?! I took bites of the butter cookies, the graham crackers (which I don't even like) and to finish it all off, I ate several strawberries as a kind of palate (and moral) cleansing.
Four minutes later, my feasting fest was complete. I had set a new world record! Home for no longer than a day and I was already accomplishing things. Yeahhh!!!!
As I sat in the kitchen chair, basking in my victory, my mom walked in.
""I was looking for you, I wasn't sure if...""
Suddenly, she stopped. Putting on her glasses to get a better view, she peered over at the table; pieces of salmon and chocolate-covered peanuts sat scattered everywhere. A jagged chunk of cheese and cookie crumbs resided next to the tattered spinach and potato chips. Strawberry stems and smears of cream cheese filled the plate.
Yep. It was a war zone.
""Bonnie!""
I couldn't answer. My mind felt like a mixture of cookie dough and cream. My eyes felt like pinwheels moving round and round. I was still hypnotized.
""What did you do?""
She came over to me and picked up the plate of food. Suddenly, I snapped out of it. My stimulus had been tampered with!
""Bonnie, what is this? The Last Supper?""
Looking up, I could see her brown eyes, encircled by white, staring down at me.
Like cinnamon and cream cheese. Mmmm.
The Last Supper? This was just the beginning.
Did you engage in a similar leftovers bonanza during Thanksgiving break? Tell Bonnie about it at gleicher@wisc.edu.
