Last night Poseidon and I ordered Chinese food for dinner. Poseidon hinted at a lack of energy to cook anything, and I, though not completely in the mood for Chinese, was less in the mood to forage through the pantry or refrigerator to whip up something magical out of freezer-burned frozen edamame and overly ripe olives in the style of Martha Stewart, so Hunan chicken and Poseidon's tofu, delivered to the front door, won out.
I always eat my Chinese food with chopsticks, even at home, because I tend to eat less and slower (slower because after 20+ years of using chopsticks, I still find it damn near impossible to get my food to go directly from chopstick to mouth...I usually take the scenic route: chopstick to shirt, shirt to mouth), and last night I was starving by the time the food arrived, so I tore into. I actually caught myself slurping and chewing with my mouth open. I was a bit startled because I RARELY do this, and here is why:
My father did not like slurping. I'll be blunt, he did not want to hear any sound coming from anyone while they ate. Slurping, crunching, sucking, schlurping, chomping, chewing, grinding, gulping...these sounds drove him up the wall and down the other side. Therefore, meals in my home growing up were the dreams of silent film makers. "Eating" sounds like these made him leave a room in a fit of rage, like a spastic asylum resident. On the rare occasion my mom made popcorn, he went all Biblical on us, and I don't mean preaching and quoting scripture, I mean storming mad and yelling like the Apocalypse was upon us.
Last night, when I first heard the slurping noise coming from my mouth, I nearly pissed my pants. I took a deep breath and looked around. Oddly enough, Poseidon had not even noticed my blunder. I breathed a sigh of relief, and laughed inside, a really good laugh! Why? Because for a quick second (though my dad has been gone for several years), I imagined him hearing my schlurp, and I should either scurry under the couch or begin my search for earplugs immediately. Ah, the things we learn in childhood. Bon appétit.
--Fortuitous Observer
