That’s right, folks! I was pretty tricky as a child and could wiggle my way out of most anything. A couple of years ago I wrote a cookbook for the kids as a sort of collection of some favorite family recipes. Here is the introduction and a glimpse into the (bizarre) start of my love affair with food:
I used to be a chef. Correction. I used to aspire to become a chef. I grew up watching cooking shows and playing around in the kitchen. I can remember my first dish, although no one would be crazy enough to try it. I made vomit. Seriously. I woke up on any given school day and did not want to go to school. Not that there was anything more exciting to do at home, but the prospect of sleeping or watching soap operas with Grandma was more appealing to me than sitting in school. Observation of my siblings and various parental behaviors told me that if I was sick, really sick, I could stay home. So I concocted vomit. I can share the recipe if you like, although I never used specific measurements.
- Wheat germ
- French dressing
- Grape jelly
- Pickle Relish
- other various ingredients that may intensify the effect
Mix all ingredients together. Make sure no one’s looking and pour slowly over and around the toilet bowl, taking care to allow for the splash effect. To increase believability, drizzle over pillow continuing in a shaky trail down the hallway to the bathroom.
That stuff saved me from countless days of Ms. Bowman’s horrid, high-pitched voice or getting hit during dodgeball or taking that stupid square dance in P.E. It was also a welcomed reprieve from the itchy, red rashes that the poison ivy I rolled in, gave me and it proved to be less of an irritant. Yes, I admit it, I rolled in huge, painful looking patches of the stuff to stay home for days at a time. I was hardly even 8 or 9 years old at the time so I don’t know if I was really nuts or school was just rotten. Shut up, don’t answer that. I switched to the vomit-making scheme when I brilliantly got the ivy stuff in my eye and one of them swelled shut. In the middle of summer. When the rest of the kids were at the pool. And I was banned. Genius.