Life with Teenagers

Archive for January 2010

hook me up with a pink lady

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“Boys, come join us. Dinner is ready,” I say, poking my head into the TV room through the doorway. My girlfriend is already sitting at the round table in the kitchen. In front of her is a large white plate with a small mound of yellow spanish rice piled on one side.

“What’s this?” asks the younger teen who has arrived at the table first.

“We’re having chicken fajitas,” I say, motioning to the big fry pan on the stove. Tri-color peppers and onions with strips of white chicken breast sizzle in olive oil. “There is no salsa.”

“No salsa!” he exclaims.

I start handing out warm tortilla rounds from the oven and depositing them one at a time onto plates.

“Try some avocado or use hot sauce or have a lime wedge,” I say as I spoon the chicken pepper mixture onto the plates.

“Hot sauce, dog,” says the older teen simultaneously sitting in his chair and shaking drips from the miniature bottle with the round red cap onto his rice.

“So mom, Greg wants to go to Loon Mountain this time,” says the younger teen.

“What about Wachusett? I ask.

“We always go there and Greg got his board stolen last time.”

“That’s a whole day trip and it will cost more for lift tickets,” I say. “Does anyone want sour cream?”

“That’s disgusting mom,” says the younger teen.

“Dude, you have more rice than me,” says the older teen craning his neck over his plate to get a better look at his brother’s plate.

My girlfriend is silently eating her fajita wrap across the table from me. I catch her eyes just at the moment she reaches for her balled-up tissue by her wine glass and turns her head away to sneeze.

“You can have some of mine if you can figure out how to get it on your own plate, dog.” says the younger teen.

He turns to me.”So do I have to pay for some of it?”

“Yes, you do. Time maybe for you to get that job, huh. What about Market Basket? I ask.

“I wish I could just work at Shaws instead,” he says making a sour face.

“Not going to happen, dude, forget it” says the older teen.

“What’s wrong with Market Basket? I’d go to Market Basket if it wasn’t so far,” I say.

“No you wouldn’t, Mom. Don’t lie. You shop at Whole Foods,” says the younger teen.

“Yeah and Whole Foods is right near Market Basket,” says the older teen. I look over at the smug face catching his mother in an awkward moment.

“Well I shop at Whole foods for some things,” I say defensively, “But then I go to Shaws to fill in the rest.”

“Fill in the rest?! There is never any food in this house. What do you fill in? olives?” asks the older teen.

My girlfriend lets out a chuckle just before she reaches to sneeze again in her tissue.

And why is everything organic anyway? Whats that about?” he says.

“Dude,” says my girlfriend. “Your mother just wants to give you some decent food when you are with her. That chicken you just ate was a free range chicken. So it got a chance to peck at its seeds and walk around in the yard before it was dinner.”

“It still got it’s head chopped off anyway,” says the younger teen.

“Yeah, but it had some life. Better than spending all its days in a dark room unable to move, right? I say.

“I guess,” says the younger teen. “Is there any dessert?” he asks.

“We’re having some chocolate orange hazelnut panforte that we made on New Years Eve, want to try it?” I ask and hand him a dark brown wedge studded with white half moons of hazelnut and dusted with powdered sugar. He takes a tiny bite.

“It tastes like orange peels. Gross,”he says.

“Yeah and what can I have? asks the older teen.

“I have Fig Newmans?” I say.

“What’s this? he asks standing at the microwave and lifting an apple up in the air for all to see.

“Oh that’s a good apple, dude.” says his brother getting up off his chair. “I’ll cut it for us.”

“It’s a pink lady,” I say. “It’s organic. From Whole Foods.”

“Hook me up with a pink lady” says the older teen. “Hey, wait! Make sure you give me half, dude.” He stands up and nudges the other teen at the cutting board.

“Dude! I’m doing it. Move!”

“Ok, this is a true sign of the apocalypse,” says my girlfriend taking a bite out of her wedge of panforte. “Forget the four horsemen. The teens are fighting over an apple.”

“Wow, this is a good apple.” say the teens almost in unison now back at the table again.

“See? doesn’t the organic food taste better? I ask. The room is silent. Both teens crunch into their apple slices.

But the truth is, the organic food doesn’t always taste better. This is evidenced by the butterball turkey my mom probably bought at Market Basket, the one that tasted ten times better than the free range brined turkey I bought for double the price at Whole Foods the year prior. But I made myself a vow when I left my last relationship and ventured out on my own in this rented house with the teens. I vowed to shop at Whole Foods as often as I could. Because the food is organic. Because the cleaning supplies smell awesome and are better for the environment. Because I like the shopping experience in the store better.

It’s just a little bit of luxury in the form of pink lady apples for me and my kids. And why not? We’re worth it.

Hook me up, dog.

Written by kmguay

January 7, 2010 at 2:33 am

Posted in family, teenagers