"I got you a gift! I got you a gift!" she cheered.
She was prancing around on my porch doing the happy dance like a drunken sailor when out of the blue she stopped short as if something important had suddenly dawned on her.
"Why do I always get you gifts?" she said.
"Hmmmm" . . . I thought and thought. "Is it because I went to the DMV and spent 30 minutes filling out paperwork and receiving training, plus step-by-step instructions for your son to get his learners permit?"
"No," she said, shaking her head.
"Is it be because I recently made your daughter look like a princess for her 7th grade banquet?"
"Is it because I let your daughter lose my new wooden heart earrings at the banquet?"
It's a cute story really. You see while Cinderella was running from Prince Charming one of the hearts fell from her ear and disappeared. I'm thinking Charming picked it up and is now searching for the owner of his twin heart. If Martha's daughter lives happily ever after we all know who to thank.
"No, " Martha said.
"Is it because I'm cute?" NO. "Is it because I'm pop-U-lar?" NO NO NO!
Honestly, I have no idea why Martha gives me gifts, but this is her latest offering.
It's like cream o' wheat, only not as creamy, and more wheaty. It's actually more like cracked wheat than cream o' wheat.
Silly goose, Martha! (I think she hates me.)
There were two things I loathed as a child: tator-tot casserole and cracked wheat. In my day mom's didn't have alternate meal plans for picky eaters so I used to sit at the breakfast table every morning with my down-dog frown while everyone cheerfully ate their cracked wheat.
One day I made a pinky promise to my mom that if she made me oatmeal until I turned 16 I would eat cracked wheat from that day forward for the rest of my life.
Luckily I was crossing my pinkys.
I did try to eat Martha's Farina because it was given with glee, but after 3 bites I got SERIOUSLY nauseous--granted I had just popped a One-A-Day vitamin, but I probably could have gotten sponsors for my gag-a-thon.
You know how when you're pregnant and you eat spagetti and then you up-chuck spagetti all night long and then you can never quite shake the image of those noodles violently running for their lives via your nose?
Well, imagine that with wheat.
Or you know how when you go body surfing and the waves keep slamming your face into the sand and you're digging sand out of our ears for days.
Well, imagine that with wheat (and in your nose).
MAHALO Martha, but you can have your stinkin' Farina back!