Something Simple
Now that I cook for myself, my diet is no longer made of the fruits and vegetables
that mom and dad made me eat along with a healthy glass of milk; it consists of pizza,
soda, and the most popular, Easy Mac. Who doesn't enjoy a nice warm bowl of cheesy,
gooey, tender noodles as a nighttime snack?
Ravaging through the kitchen cupboards late at night, searching for something to
eat, I notice a box. It has very distinct colors, blue with a bright yellow lettering, and its
calling my name. I snatch the box, look in, and notice there's only one lonely package of
macaroni and cheese remaining. I reach right in and grab that last packet, and then rush to
cupboard.
I reach directly into the cupboard and grab my favorite ninja turtle bowl, the one I
have used since I was six. Next, I open the top of the noodles package and pour them into
the bowl.
Then I walk to the sink and eyeball 2/3 of a cup of water into the bowl. I am an
expert at judging how much to put in by now. I watch the water splash against and
consume all the noodles, some of them even floating on top.
Even though this is all so routine for me, I always read the back of the packet to
see how much time it should be in the microwave--three and a half minutes. I pop the
door open and place the bowl on the glass plate in the microwave. I excitedly push the
buttons for the time and enter two and a half minutes on the clock, even though it's
supposed to be in there for three and a half, but our microwave is a new and quite
powerful.
I sit in my chair, by the table, waiting for the timer to go off. My stomach is
growling and almost screaming for the food, and the smell of the Easy Mac is slowly
filling the air. I peer through the glass window to check-up on it and notice that the water
is almost bubbling over the edge. This is my last package. I take a gasping breath and
immediately slam my hand on the button to open the door. Eventually the water slowly
simmers down, and I allow it to return to cooking. DING DING DING. Finally, the loud,
piercing sound of the timer goes off.
I grab the bowl out of the microwave, tear open the little packet of cheese and
dump its entire content into the center of my mushy noodles. I grab a clean spoon and
mix the concoction together, knowing that soon my stomach will be quiet again. The little
chunks of cheese are carefully mixed together with the water and soft tubes lying in the
fragile bowl until the mixture is complete and the bowl is painted yellow, and the smell of
the cheddar is clear.
I hastily dig my spoon down into the pits of my creation and scoop up as many
noodles as I possibly can. My mouth encompasses the mixture as I chew happily and
swallow. I can feel the warm tenderness replenish my vacant stomach. Mmm, something
so simple and be so delicious. Easy Mac: the simple food.