Don’t talk to me, I’m too busy eating Kraft Dinner

Every once in a while I’ll do things purposely to feel like a kid again.

I’ll re-watch the Wizard of Oz, I’ll bring my beloved Teddy bear out of his safe spot in my closet for a catch up cuddle or I’ll go to my neighbourhood park to hang upside down on the monkey bars flashing my gitch for the whole world to see. Those moments are probably the closest I’ll ever get to time travelling (seriously, how has someone not figured out how to do this yet?) because for a few minutes, sometimes even just a few seconds, I’m six years old.



Today I had one of my time travel moments. I was at the grocery store in the hot foods section buying lunch when I decided to go wild…I bought Macaroni and Cheese.

There’s two things you should know about me to understand how out of character this is for me:

1. I despise pasta. I’m the world’s worst Italian girl. My poor Nonno’s heart breaks a little every time I tell him I won’t eat rigatoni. Add this to the fact that his dreams of me becoming a nun went up in a slutty puff of smoke, and it’s amazing he’s even still alive.

2. I’m a VERY picky eater. If it’s not lettuce, broccoli or peanut M&M’s I want nothing to do with it.  That being said my weakness is cheese. I will do anything for cheese. Like, if I was ever down on my luck and turned to a life of prostitution it would be  just so I could earn money for cheese (and probably to pay for my Netflix account).

I couldn’t help it. I zeroed in on the Mac & Cheese and immediately began shoveling spoonfuls into my take-out container. I came back to the office to sit at my desk and eat lunch and immediately was overwhelmed by a sense of calm. Yes, I know it’s considered comfort food but at this stage of my life the only thing I really consider comfort food is the wedge of lime the bartender serves when he gives me vodka.

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Lunch was bliss. I started talking (literally, to nobody) about the days of Kraft dinner and ketchup, having to go to your friends house and asking your friend’s mother not to put cut up bits of hot dog in your bowl of KD and singing “The Blue Box Blues” as you sprinkled the orange dust over your boiled pasta. Ah, I was in heaven.


I started asking my friends if they ever did things like this to feel like a kid again. One friend said that whenever they get stressed they go outside and stand between sheets drying on the clothesline. They said something about the sheets made them feel small and comforted. I immediately tried to relate to them by sharing how when I was five I got lost in a Zellers department store and was found hiding in a rack of men’s pants. My friend politely told me this was not the same at all but I gave no reply. I was too busy remembering how I pretended cargo pants were my fort protecting me from store employees running around calling my name saying they knew my Mom and would take me back to her. I’m was no dummy. I knew stranger danger was real.

Since my afternoon of Mac and Cheese brought me such joy I’ve decided to make an effort to get in touch with my inner child more often. Next up: Pancakes and Sailor Moon.

I’d love to hear what makes you feel like a kid! Leave me a message in the comment section below!


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