Smile, Say Cheese

Hey Mom! I never told you this before, but I did it. I ate all the cheese you specifically purchased to place on your charcuterie board. You know the one you special ordered straight from Italy? You waited months it seemed, just to try those seven different varieties of aged cheese, and I stole your moment of glory. I didn't intend to eat it all, I just wanted a little nibble of each, and why on earth would they send such small squares of cheese anyways? I mean honestly, if anyone is to blame, it simply must be them for sending such minute sample sizes. Those blocks of cheese, and I use the term "blocks" loosely, were the size of petit fours. I've seen much bigger squares of cheese placed on the ends of traps for house mice or rats. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not making any excuses for my moment of mischief. However, in my defense, I now understand the famous lays motto " betcha can't eat just one". I know this confession is twenty years overdue, but better late than never right? I'm getting way ahead of myself though with this confession , let me start from the beginning.

You always said, if I chose to be late, then I better make damn sure I make a memorable entrance! Well here I am "twirl, spin, kick"! I kid, I kid. Seriously though, as you already know, my love of cheese started somewhere between the age of four and five. I would be thrilled every holiday, because I knew you would be chopping a combination of sharp cheddar, extra sharp cheddar, and smoked gouda into little cubes for your homemade macaroni. You would always leave one cube of each flavor for me on the counter ,just so I could be sure it passed the "taste test". I eventually began to associate eating cheese cubes as somewhat a form of a love language , a combination of quality time and receiving gifts. Even still to this very day, a platter of cheese causes me to reminisce about all the good times. On the flip side, a platter of cheese also brings a bout of nausea to the surface. These conflicting feelings I have towards cheese cubes all started the day I decided to be of assistance, and check your package to make sure it was up to par.

The day started out like any other Saturday in a child's life. I woke up that morning and watched cartoons while you were out grocery shopping , and dad slept. Sometime in between dad waking up, and your arrival, FED EX delivered the package. Dad and I were both curious, so we opened the package before you got home and hid it. The next part of the story is just a tad bit blurry for me, but somehow you and dad ended up in the room having a talk about something. Once I noticed the door was closed, I took that as a sign for me to sample some cheese while I ate my orange. Well, the sampling eventually led to me over indulging in cheese somehow, despite eating an orange alongside. Before I knew it, all of the cheese was gone, which wasn't much to begin with. I had to then hide the package again, because I didn't want to get in trouble. Well, before I could fully hide it, I started puking all over the place. You heard me coughing, and ran out to the sight of me ruining your fine china and carpet. You never really knew what exactly made me sick, you simply assumed a 24hr bug.

Eventually, the next day to be exact, you found the empty pack where your cheese should've been. I started to feel "sick "again so I excused myself to my room, and dad took the blame for me. I'm pretty sure he and I both agreed that getting sick was punishment enough, and that I didn't need your wrath to top if off. If it gives you any consolation, I am still being punished by the consequences of my own actions. Still to this day I don't eat oranges period, nor do I eat cheese outside of a cooked dish. You lost one temporary item, and I ended up losing two permanent snack options. No hard feelings right?

Love,

The Real Cheese Thief xoxo