Aunt Pooh's Hotdog Smorgasbord

 

 

 

Our discussion of hamburgers and ketchup ("That's So Charlie") reminded me of Aunt Pooh's International Hot Dog Buffet, which she would set out for me and my cousins.  It works for hamburgers too.

Hula dog:  a hotdog with ketchup and pineapple.  Say aloha to a real treat!

Fiesta Perro: salsa and cheese, loving wrapped in a tortilla!  Ole!

Ach du Lieber Hund: a frankfurter mit sauerkraut and cheese.

Good Ole Boy/Gal dog:  Add barbecue sauce for a southern treat!  Yee hah!

John Bull Dog:  A jolly good show with cheddar cheese and mustard!  If you can find chutney, it will add the mystery of India.

Godfather Dog:  Sprinkle Parmesan cheese over spaghetti sauce on your hot dog. They'll leave the gun and take the dog!

Puritan Dog:  Smother your dog with baked beans.  Even Cotton Mather would love it! 

Aunt Pooh told me that when my mother was three she wouldn't eat hotdogs because she thought they were made from dogs.  When my grandmother explained that they were called that because they looked like dachshunds, my mother said that was "stupid."  But she ate them.



Protest -- Perhaps a Parable?

There was going to be a protest at the college. I don't know what it was about; there are so many things to make people mad. Janet and Missy were going, but I forgot to ask them.

Karen said she'd like to go, but Tom told her he was not going to watch the boys for that, although he would be happy to do it if she wanted to go, shopping; hey, why didn't she go to lunch first? I asked her if that wasn't sexist and she looked sheepish, “But he really feels strongly about not being political. It's part of his self image. Anyway, I'm not going to turn down an afternoon to myself. Where do you want to go to eat?”

Nikki said that if the girls wanted to go, she would take them, but she didn't think they would and Chinese would be fun.

I said Cilla was too young and Betsey and Josh probably made other plans. Or I could bring the girls to lunch and Ed could have some quality time with Josh.

I told Ed about how nice Tom had been, and I also told him why. “Of course, I wouldn't go anyway, but Karen was disappointed and I wanted to be supportive,”

“Jesus.”

I wanted to keep the drama so a minimum, so I let it go, although I wondered what Jesus would have done.

But then, He never organized a protest or march, as far as I know. But then, I'm not a theologian.

So we had a very nice lunch (I had mu shu pork), I got a new scarf (black with red poppies), and the girls got new shirts (Hello Kitty playing tennis for Cilla and Wonderwoman for Betsey).

Janet called and said the protest had been awesome. When I asked here what it had been about, she giggled and said there was so much going on with all the leaflets and signs and singing, she really couldn't say.

This is so Charlie!

 

 

 

Ed and I have a rule that no media is allowed during dinner, The kids fussed about missing calls, “And it might be an emergency, Mom, like Grandpa's fallen and he can't get up.”

I said, “If  he can call us, he can call 911. Whoever it is can leave a message.”

I didn't tell them that when I was young, we didn't have voicemail, since we got it when I was ten. I knew I'd get a cross examination, if not the Spanish Inquisition.

This is what it can lead to:

 

I asked Ed if he put the ketchup on top of the cheese in a cheeseburger, or if he turned it over and put it on the meat,

He said he put it on top and added, “What difference does it make?”

Me: “ I'm just making conversation. That's all I've got.”

Josh: “That's a very original question, Mom, It's interesting to hear how other people do things.” (Seminary, here he comes!) “I put it on top.”

Cilla wanted to know why.

Betsey: 'Because he's too lazy to turn the bun over.” (Betsey was having a grilled cheese sandwich to help save some poor cow's life. Cilla said I was “spoiling her.” I said it was to make up for all the times Betsey thought I was spoiling her. )

Josh: “But maybe it makes the meat taste better. Of course you could put it on both sides.” (And it's going to be an Episcopal seminary!)

Ed: “Why not mustard?” (I don't know if he wanted to join in or if he was being provocative. I didn't care. It was communication.)

Cilla: “McDonald's mixes ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise! Eeew!”

Josh: ”Everyone's entitled to their own opinion.”

Cilla:” I bet if we asked that guy who trashes all those restaurants on television, he'd have an opinion.”

Betsey: “Why don't you write a letter and ask him?”

Cilla: “Maybe I will. It would be very educational.”

Ed: “Well, Charlie do you turn your hamburger upside down? If anyone did, it would be you,”

 

 

Me: “Actually, I never did. Not to brag, but I'm probably the only person in the world who ever thought of it.”
 

“In the universe,” Cilla said proudly.

 

 

 

And Business Insurance Hadn't Even Been Invented!

 

"Well,” Josh said, as we drove home from soccer practice. “Betsey's mad at Jesus again.”

"Oh, no," I thought, but I just said, "Why?" I was surprised that she had just told him and not refused to go to Sunday School, Last time she hadn't liked the fact that Jesus had driven a legion of demons into a herd of pigs, who promptly threw themselves off a cliff and drowned.

"She says he's a racist."

That was a new one on me. "Why?"

"Because when Jesus killed those pigs, he ruined their owner's business and he probably had to become a beggar. But since he was a Gentile, Jesus didn't care. So that makes him a racist."

"Oh." I didn't know what else to say. "I'll have to talk to her." I wasn't sure how to handle this. I decided to just take her aside or wait until I was taking her somewhere, but Josh beat me to it, maybe because we were having pork chops. Betsey is still not eating meat, although I did get her to agree to eat something that would eat her. But I haven't been able to find any shark or bear or alligator meat. Not that I'm looking all that hard.

Cilla had decided that she was "too young to make that decision." This is probably the only time she has ever been glad to be too young to do something.

"You know," Josh said, "If those pigs hadn't drowned, they would have been killed anyway." We all knew what he was talking about. The pig theological crisis has become a family legend already.

"That's not the point," Betsey said. "He shouldn't have done it. And he was mean to the pig's owner. He ruined his business.  He couldn't even have a going out of business sale, because he didn't have anything left to sell."

"Tell Mom why he did it." Josh likes a good debate. Or maybe he just wanted to give her a hard time. But Betsey seemed glad to get the opportunity to develop her point.

"Because the pigs' owner wasn't Jewish. Jesus didn't care what happened to him. He probably thought it served him right."

"Served him right for what?" Now Cilla was in on the discussion.

"For not being Jewish."

"Tell Mom what that makes him." I don't know why Josh kept telling her to tell me. Ed was right there.

"A racist."

Ed looked up from his potatoes and dropped his fork.

"A what?"

"A racist. That's a person who . . ."

"I know what a racist is. You should never call anyone that. It's like the n-word."

"But a person who would use the n-word is a racist. So couldn't you call them a racist?"

"Well . . " Ed had to think for a minute. I didn't say anything. I was enjoying not having to answer the questions for a change. Finally he got an idea. "Two wrongs don't make a right."

"And anyway, we don't know any racists." I was shocked at myself. I sounded like my mother, who could never see the point of talking about something in theory, except in science.

"But we might someday," Cilla said, almost with horrified anticipation, like we might know a vampire someday.

"And we know Jesus."

"Don't say that, Betsey." Cilla was getting upset. "You'll hurt His feelings and the Blessed Virgin Mother's."

"The Blessed Virgin Mother is probably embarrassed for Him anyway."

I didn't know what to say. I wondered if it would be cowardly to change the subject. Fortunately, Josh had gotten bored and wanted to know what was for dessert.