I found myself visiting a friend recently, my eyes closed tight, mouth open wide, trusting. Trusting that the spoon sliding into my mouth contained nothing that would make me gag or lose my cookies. There was no discernible smell to help me identify the food before it hit my palate. I had insisted on knowing whether it was sweet or savory and sweet was going to hit my tongue.
I was still apprehensive. There was a hint of sadistic pleasure in his request.
The cold soup spoon filled my mouth and didn’t budge until I had taken the food from it. We both laughed. I withdrew, wallowed the mush around in my mouth – there really was no polite place to spit it out – recoiled and struggled to swallow. Nasty. Very slightly sweet with a hint of chocolate one might think this a pleasant experience, but no it was all about the texture. Not good.
When I was a small child my Mom would often make hot cereal for breakfast. Honestly I can still remember being in a high chair and eating Cream of Wheat. I hated it. With a passion. Mom if you read this, please don’t worry I am not scared for life!
The problem with Cream of Wheat was this; I would take a few bites and a little would get on the side of my mouth. You know I was a little kid. Anyway I would wipe at it with my hand and it would smear across my face and get on my hand! I would then try to get it with the side of the spoon like moms do, scraping the residual from around your mouth. It would spread a little farther. By this time my hair would need to be pushed back and a few grains would lodge in my locks. The next time I moved my hair it would be on my other hand. Before long some cereal would have found its’ way to my pajama sleeve or front offering more options for it to get picked up by my arm or hand and be spread further. It was endless and messy. The only way to get rid of it was to strip and bathe. Sometimes that happened but not always. Some days I just kept finding grains of now cold and gooey clumps here and there. Discomfort in the wearing of Cream of Wheat far exceeded any gustatory pleasure I might have had from such a fine delicacy.
So, you know my dislike for the cereal has deep psychological implications. And this man had just unwittingly stuck a spoonful down my throat. Ain’t trust an interesting thing. Interestingly, the chocolate Malt O Meal – cold and congealed – didn’t gag me as bad as I thought it would have. It was slightly reminiscent of tapioca which I love! I’m not saying I will give it another try anytime soon, not by choice anyway but if I were starving the two boxes stored in the freezer might find their way to the kitchen. Why there are two boxes in the freezer is beyond me. I seem to remember someone bringing it as an ingredient for something… ick.