I know I have issues. My children tell me this all the time. It’s not that I’m a control freak, exactly. I just want things to be done a certain way – my way, to be precise. What’s so wrong with that? Doesn’t everyone have strongly held opinions about which way the forks should go in the dishwasher , whether fruit should be stored in the same drawer as vegetables, and how many times to fold the thinly sliced lunch meat before laying it diagonally on the 7-grain bread? Of course they do.
I was watching my son make a web page for his computer class the other day. I got closer and closer to the screen, watching him work, until I was literally breathing down his neck. I gave him so many helpful tips and (very precise) suggestions that he finally asked me to go away. But I know I was right; the 9pt font was the way to go. And when I was sitting in the car with my other son and he threw his fast food trash into the car’s trash can, I think it was perfectly reasonable to ask him to take it out, put it in the fast food bag, and then put the bag in the trash can. And I know my daughter is always grateful for my many and varied fashion and grooming tips.
In spite of these small foibles, I think I can claim to be fairly laid back. (Shut up, kids!) In fact, compared to some people, I’m so relaxed I’m practically comatose. Let me explain.
My sister is in a book club. You know how book clubs work. A group of people read a book, then they have a meeting to discuss the book. It’s like English class for adults, except no grades, no term papers, and very few detentions. You may think that these meetings are just an excuse for a bunch of women to get together and drink wine spritzers and trash talk their husbands/their neighbors/anyone who was late for the meeting. And you’re probably right, except for the wine spritzers part. People stopped drinking those in the 80s. I’m pretty sure that they serve stronger stuff at these meetings, and I have a suspicion that they even manage to mention the book once or twice.
This particular book club is into themes. Every month they make food and drinks with a theme, that theme being determined by that months’ book selection. “What a great idea!” you might say. “How fun! How clever!”, but that’s only because you still have free will.
There is one special person in the book club who loves to organize, and this theme stuff is right up her alley. She started small, emailing out innocent- seeming suggestions.
Since the book this month is Cooking with Lemons, I thought we might do a theme of Cooking With Lemons. Can everyone bring something that involves lemons in some way, or at least something that is yellow? Great! And maybe you could wear yellow, too! Whee!
As the months passed and everyone was lulled into a false sense of security, she tightened her web. The next time she hosted the meeting, her emailed instructions were a little more explicit, a little less friendly.
Let’s see, everyone. This month we’re reading the Bible, so let’s bring only food and drinks that were available 2000 years ago. Susan, you’re quite the baker, how about bringing some unleavened bread? Mandy, we all know how you love to drink, so would you be a dear and bring unfiltered kosher wine? Great. Oh, and Barbara, you’re in charge of olives and grapes. I’ll whip up some unpasteurized goat’s milk yogurt. We’ll have so much fun!
A few months went by and her turn came around again. By then the other book clubbers had an inkling that something might be up, given that this person had tried to arrange all the other meetings as well, but it was not confirmed until they receive their emailed orders.
Listen up, women. We just read “Like Water For Chocolate” and so chocolate is our theme. Lulu, you will make a semisweet chocolate torte. Make it in a large glass mixing bowl and use the pink spatula you got for your 42nd birthday. Stir the batter clockwise 173 times with your left hand and then bake it in a 9.2” aluminum pan. Finish it 17 hours and 3 minutes before our meeting and store it in your garage refrigerator; your kitchen one is not cold enough. When you arrive at my house, put it on an 11” oval platter decorated with kittens. Sprinkle 2.1 teaspoons of powdered sugar – not the store brand – over the top in a decorative cloverleaf pattern. Wear clogs.
Mary, you make a wedding cake just like the one in the movie. You must weep bitter tears as you make it and wear the costume the character wore. I’ve already contacted the props department and it will be sized to fit you by Tuesday. Garnish the cake with sprigs of Chilean mint from aisle 13C at the whole foods market on 5th and Broadway. Two leaves per layer, and cut the stems to a length of 1/8” using a wood-handled carving knife. Keep the TV off while you do this.
Tamara, your job is water. I want you to head out to the glacier on Mt. Rainier and pick up 13.45 kg of ice. Melt it in a stainless steel pot on the front left burner of your stove and then store it in the cut crystal decanter I saw at your house last Easter.
We’ll sit around the table in age order, with the youngest at my right hand and moving up from there. Remember, if you are older than another person, you should be to her right, not her left.
I just love this! So much fun!
This went on far longer than it should have. Finally, though, the other book clubbers had had enough. When this woman asked them to use fresh fennel picked by a blue-eyed man named Henry for one of the dishes, and suggested that they all wear matching underwear, they tossed her out along with the hand monogrammed cocktail napkins she always carried in her purse. The last I heard, she was teaching kindergarten.
“No, Johnny, when you make a lowercase ‘a’, you should hold the pencil in your right hand at a 37 degree angle and press on the paper with 1.3 newtons of force. Use a blue #2 pencil and make the first part of the letter moving in a counterclockwise direction. The letter should be 4mm wide and the line should be 0.39 mm thick. No, use your right hand. I don’t care if you are left handed, dammit!”
So you see, I am not a control freak. Not at all.
Nov
19