Cheese Mustache and the World of Make Believe

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2015-09-02 09.06.57

A note from last week.

“Being a girl is difficult. Being a girl in a boy dominated grade school is down right maddening at times. Despite being part of the minority, Pheobe continues to push forward in her world of unicorns and rainbows. Today she will subject “Cheese Mustache” and her brother to this glittery world of make believe at “Cheese’s: house. Thank you, Brandi (aka Mom)”

Armed Apocalypse Patrols

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2015-09-02 08.48.12

“As the days wear on, the troops grow more and more restless. Rumors from outside the school walls spark hope of the afterschool program re-starting next week. This small spark of hope is, at least, something to hold on to. Until we get certified proof that the program will resume, Theo will continue armed apocalypse patrols on the golf cart with “Shoe Cheese”. Thank you, Brandi (aka Mom)”

Baconator Fries Cause Disappointment and Sadness

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Dear Wendy’s,

It’s a common known fact that women tend to crave certain foods during different points in their lives. When I was pregnant with my son, I craved butter. With my daughter it was sour cream. I may or may not have subjected myself to eating both with a spoon out of a tub. With each woman it’s different. However, when it comes to PMS, all women crave the same thing: fat, grease, and more fat. It’s almost as if we can live without it. We crave it to the point of driving ourselves mad until we finally fold and fill our mouths with mounds of cheese, bacon, and anything fried. Once we have fulfilled this craving, we can go back to nibbling on our salads and sipping our seltzer waters.

When I get that animalistic craving for all things unhealthy it you, Wendy’s, that I turn to. I picture Dave Thomas with his arms out stretched, beckoning me to the drive through window where mounds of food wrapped in a crisp red and white bag await me. Yesterday my PMS grabbed a hold of me once again. I made my way through the wind and the rain on the back roads of New Hampshire, and found myself on your doorstep with dreams of Baconator Fries dancing in my head.  As the drive through window slid open, and the red and white bag touched my hand, I could almost taste the salty fries on my tongue and the gooey cheese sliding down my throat.

My eyes followed the sharp edges of the bag, and plunged inside with desire. Encased in a steaming plastic cocoon, where my Baconator Fries. I popped the top so I could finally taste heaven in my mouth. Once the steam had cleared, this is what I saw.

fries

Disappointment. The cheese, barely melted, was no bigger than a sneeze and the bacon was maybe one whole piece…maybe. The fries were soggy, and resembled the fresh cut fries promised on tv about as much as a chihuahua resembles a cat. My need for cheese and grease compelled me to eat it, but not until after I nuked it in the microwave to finish the cheese melting process and warm up the soggy fries. Even then, I was left with nothing more than complete and utter disappointment in my mouth.

The whole event has left my PMS induced inner fat girl distressed and still craving anything that will clog my arteries thus causing a heart attack. The fact that the “new” Wendy’s girl is so slender and healthy no longer baffles me. With food this hard to swallow, it’s any wonder she has eaten anything in the past year. i am sad, Wendy’s, so so sad.

Sorrowfully yours,

Mommyundressed