Thursday, June 27, 2019

The Human Vacuum


My refrigerator sits, a cold, barren wasteland, like the tundra of Alaska. Well, if the Alaskan tundra had empty food storage containers strewn about. I open the pantry and to my horror, I fear that thieves broke in during the night and ransacked the snacks, leaving behind empty granola bar boxes, bags that hold individual servings of chips and popcorn, and a few stray Cheerios at the bottom of the box.

My heart begins to race. I just went grocery shopping yesterday! How can this be? All that food - and money - gone! In less than 24 hours, I am back to square one. Back to my refrigerator looking like that of a college frat house with a bottle of ketchup, one lonely yogurt cup and something mysterious wrapped in foil.

I’m startled out of my panic when I hear a familiar voice chime in from behind me heading ever closer to the crime scene.

“Mommmm, there’s nothing to eeeaaat!” the voice moans as if the person who owns the voice hadn’t eaten in days.

And then it hits me. We have not been robbed by a gang of ravenous bandits. This was an inside job orchestrated and executed by my dear, sweet, bottomless pit of a 14-year old son.

I answer to his cries of starvation, “There’s plenty of watermelon, I just cut it up!”

“Nope. I ate it,” human vacuum says with a grin.

Grrrrr..."That’s the empty watermelon container? Could you please not put empty containers back in the fridge?” I beg, tears welling in my eyes as I remember the days when I could go to the grocery store but once a week.

I continue with my usual rebuttals. “Chocolate pudding? Popcorn? Yogurt? Strawberries? Cereal?”

“Ummm, nope. All gone. The granola bars are done,too. I left the empty box in the cabinet so you would know. Just wanna help you, mom!” he says while putting his arm around me and giving me a loving, and I detect, sarcastic squeeze.

“You know what else is all gone, too? My money. So get creative, kid, and enjoy that ketchup, cup of yogurt and mystery item wrapped in foil until payday!”