by Eric Miller
Four year old
Andrew Mack was getting antsy. He was hungry, his
mother wasnt home, and his babysitting
grandparents said he had to wait for lunch,
because they all were going to a restaurant as
soon as his mother returned.
my lunch now, Andrew proclaimed in his
infamous todderly tone of disagreement.
I hear your Moms car as we speak, his
grandfather said, with his hand cupped over his
dont hear her car, Andrew replied.
not listening carefully enough, his
grandfather said. Cup your hand over your ear
like this, stand on the front porch, and
cant hear her car, Andrew announced,
shes coming. I hear her car, but its
still kind of far away. It sounds like shes
near the supermarket. So, she wont be long
now. Can you hear her now, Andrew?
so. Which restaurant are we going to?
why dont we make a list of all your
favorite ones, and then pick your most favorite?
is my most favorite. We dont need to make a
it is. And guess whos home?
macaroni and cheese, and, uh, French fries, and
lemonade, and chocolate ice cream," Andrew
stated with utmost certainty.
is so bad!, groaned his grandmother.
you cant have lemonade and ice cream, just
one or the other. Which do you want?, his
mother piped in, with appropriate authority.
want ice cream!
have water, but you cant have French fries.
They dont go with mac and cheese, his
mother stated with the sagacity of a graduate
from the Culinary Institute of America.
Andrew whined, as he gave his pre-meltdown look,
but the feared tantrum misfired and all seemed
well. Becoming more agitated as the seconds
ticked away, he cried: Wheres my
macaroni and cheese?
has to make each noodle, one at a time, and he
has to cook them in hot water, and he has to rub
the melted cheese on each noodle, and that takes
time, his grandfather said.
it now," Andrew screamed, banging his spoon
on the table.
his grandfather said, the noodles are
hollering in the kitchen, hopping up and down in
the hot water trying to get out of the pot, but
the chef keeps pushing them back in.
at his grandpa with just the hint of a smile,
then instantly snarled: Its time for
them to get out of the pot and come here.
He put his head on the table and began to whimper.
Grandma and Mom cheered. The noodles are
his arms up with glee. A second later he shrieked:
Theyre too hot!
subsided as his mother, his grandmother, and his
grandfather stirred, fanned, and blew.
Andrews spoon finally rose to his mouth,
his smile radiating everywhere, the same place
his noodles were going.