Fork YOU
I’ve been on a fondue kick.
I do this pretty often – I’ll eat one thing for like six months straight until the sight of it makes me vomit. What, ME (with) food issues?
Lately, rather than spaghetti and meatballs, it’s been fondue. I’ve been on fondue like it’s my job.
I was feeling kinda mopey on Saturday, what with a week full of sick kids who decided that staying home to torture me while whining and coating my home in a nice glistening pile of germs – rather than going to school and infecting all of their classmates – was the way to handle it. By Saturday, I had a 101 degree fever, a cough that would make a TB sanatorium proud, and a case of the Mondays.
The only answer?
(not more cowbell)
(also not more vodka, but only barely)
FONDUE.
I bribed The Guy on the Couch to go to fondue with me, and when I say “bribed,” I mean that it went like this:
The Guy on my Couch (mowing lawn and singing loudly off-key)
Aunt Becky: (standing on driveway waving frantically)
The Guy On My Couch: “Shit are you okay?”
Aunt Becky: “Yeah, why?”
The Guy On My Couch: “You looked like you were having a seizure.”
Aunt Becky: “Nope, just hungry. HEY, Fondue Reso in an hour and a half. BE READY.”
The Guy On My Couch: “You sure you’re not seizing?”
Aunt Becky (mysteriously) “Can one EVER be sure of such a thing?”
———
Upstairs, trying to find something to wear. Have forgotten that I’ve thrown all my clothes down to be a) washed or 2) given to Goodwill. Have no clean pants that I can find and do not feel like wearing a dress as the fondue restaurant tends to be cold.
Ah-HA I say to myself as I pick up a pair of jeans – this is PERFECT!
I slip into the jeans and change out of my Shut Your Whore Mouth shirt and into something slightly more dressy. Contemplate making dressy Shut Your Whore Mouth shirts as I slap on some makeup and perfume before heading downstairs.
The Daver: “You look nice.”
Aunt Becky: “Thanks!”
The Guy On My Couch: “Ouch, Daver. You didn’t tell me that *I* looked nice.”
The Daver: *laughs*
(a few minutes pass so I pick up my crabby daughter and whirl her around until she’s laughing so hard she can barely breathe)
The Daver: “Are you…”
Aunt Becky: “…?”
The Daver: “Are you wearing MATERNITY pants?”
Aunt Becky: “Thems be mah EATIN’ pants.”
The Daver and The Guy On My Couch begin to laugh uproariously. Unsure of why the grown-ups are laughing, all three children join in.
———-
An hour and a half later we’re sitting down on what we’d both forgotten was “date night,” so the restaurant is packed. Our server shuffles by us at least ten times before finally making his way to our table, by which time I am ready to gnaw off his arm. Uncooked, even.
A Server Named Dennis: “So sorry about the wait. It’s been crazy.”
Aunt Becky: “I heard that table behind us (an 8-top of a particularly annoying family) hound you for decaf. It’s all good.”
(sidebar: decaf coffee and hot tea are the banes of every server’s existence)
A Server Named Dennis: (laughs) “What can I get for you?”
The Guy On My Couch: “We’re weird.”
Aunt Becky: “You can say THAT again.”
The Guy On My Couch: “We’re weird. We don’t want meat. We just want cheese, then chocolate.”
A Server Named Dennis: “So it’s like a Festival of Cheese? Cool.”
The Guy On My Couch: “BRING ON THE CHEESE. Okay, we’ll start with the Swiss.”
A Server Named Dennis: “For two or…”
The Guy On My Couch (decisively): “For four.”
A Server Named Dennis: (laughs): “We shall begin the parade of cheese.”
The Guy On My Couch: “WINNING.”
Aunt Becky (on iPad) : “Fucking Tiny Tower – I need a fucking new elevator.”
Both stare at me.
Aunt Becky (mysteriously turns on her Slack-Jawed Yokel voice): “I got mah eatin’ pants on, y’all.”
Both stare at me.
Aunt Becky: “I done hurted mah elbey-bone.”
The Guy On My Couch: “Go back to Tiny Tower.”
Aunt Becky: “YOU GOT IT.”
Three cheese later, we get to the chocolate. The battle of the forks ensues.
Aunt Becky: “MAH MARSHMALLOW, BACK OFF FUCKSTICK!”
The Guy On My Couch: “You don’t get ALL the marshmallows, Miss Greedy-Pants.”
Aunt Becky (narrows eyes): “I can take you.”
The Guy On My Couch: “This IS a business dinner, yes?”
Aunt Becky: “Yes.”
The Guy On My Couch: “You probably shouldn’t kill off one of your board members. I’m guessing that’ll reflect badly on our non-profit status.”
Aunt Becky: “…”
The Guy On My Couch (smugly): “Pass the marshmallows.”
Aunt Becky (narrows eyes): “You’re fired.”
The Guy On My Couch: “You can’t fire me, Miss President. You’re a non-voting member.”
Aunt Becky: (begrudgingly passes a marshmallow)
The Guy On My Couch: (pops it into his mouth)
Aunt Becky: “I licked that while you weren’t looking.”
The Guy On My Couch: “I hate you.”
Aunt Becky: “Don’t FUCK with my marshmallows.”
————–
How was YOUR weekend, Pranksters?
Awesome 😛
For the love of the good lord of butter, please let there be video of this…
No fondue here, but I did get hit on while on a bike ride by someone 20 years younger. When I turned him down, he followed with the not-so-classic pick-up line “You have nice legs. Can we be friends?”
Life is good. Or at least interesting.
Finally my niece and nephew both had home games at the same time. So basically I hurt my neck looking from field to field.
BEST POST EVER!!!!!
I’m going to start wearing my maternity pants again, just so I can declare them Mah Eatin’ Pants!
My weekend? Blessedly quiet and peaceful for once. The hubs even cooked last night so I didn’t have to!
This is why I really really miss having friends *sigh*
This makes me want fondue. HARD.
I’m now wanting fondue and there is not a fondue place to be found in Wichita. Also, I don’t have a fondue pot. Dammit!
My 16-year-old daughter and I saw The Avengers movie. We laughed, we drooled over the hunky actors, and we declared Joss Whedon Best Director Evah.
How could anyone top that?? but this is pretty awesome.
http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/87be7156f5/republicans-get-in-my-vagina?rel=player
I am commenting twice, but you had me wanting melted cheese sauce ALL.DAY.LONG! Do you know what’s really good? Stouffers Welsh Rarebit. I use it as fondue. And you can make it. Because it only requires a microwave 😛
OMG when we go to The Melting Pot we only get the cheese and chocolate courses just like you. We do the cheddar/beer and mexican cheeses followed by snickers bar and peanut butter chocolate. Damn it, now I have to break out the fat jeans and go for fondue this weekend!!!!
I’ve never understood why anyone would choose fried meat over gooey cheese and gooey chocolate. And call it a food phobia, but it freaks me out to have a pot of boiling oil inches from my lap! I can barely drink my wine without spilling.
Ok, AB and Pranksters, y’alls need to make your own fondue at home. Then you don’t have to wear pants AT ALL. Because fuck pants.
Rub a smooshed garlic clove in a pan. Put in 1 cup of white wine and 1 tablespoon of lemon juice. Bring it to a simmer. Add shredded cheese – 1/2 lb emmenthaler and 1/2 lb gruyere. Add it a handful at a time, and stir until melted. When it’s all melted, add pepper and nutmeg to taste, and 1 tablespoonish brandy or cognac or kirsch. EAT. You’ll never go back to a fondon’t restaurant again.
We had cheese and chocolate fondue on Easter.
Thanks for the giggle. I almost lost it when I pictured the faces of the people around you in the restaurant.
Dear Aunty Becky
I’m back from the swamps and trying your tip to comment til my fingers bleed. This is only the first day so let’s not get the champagne glass out just yet. I’m glad to see you’re doing well and keeping the dairy farmers on the go. I luuurrrve fondue. Luckily it was our first date so we get to eat it often and all in the interest of keeping the romance alive – Valentine’s day, anniversary, Friday night and sometimes Saturday night and Sunday night if out of town guests were with with us when we lived close to a fabulous fondue restaurant. Love the eatin pants. I need some of those. Maybe you should start a clothing line?
I have never had fondu (ducks objects being thrown at her), Maybe mothers day…..
(yes, I hated decaf requests as a waitress!)
Fondu is the only fond memory i have of my ex’s family. I am so fond of cheeze in any form.
Thank you for defending wait-persons of the world from the horrors of decaf. Asking for tea in England is not such a big deal. We don’t tip them anyway. It shows in the ‘service’.
Glad you had a wonderful weekend. Mine was terrific. Huge marriage-love affirming. So needed that after the Feys and Dwarves.
Oooooh, I would have rather been there with ya’ll.
Me and Husband? We went to that hot, sticky place where people of all shapes and sizes pretend to listen to great music while drinking themselves until the lie face down in their own vom. Yes, that is correct…Jazz Fest in Nawlins’ Weezeeana.
The horror…..the horror….
I lost you at “Fondue.” Mmmmmmm……
It’s not more cowbell. BAHAHAHA. You are so funny I love your posts.
Onward you march to near perfection…
I JUST bought a cast iron fondue set at the Salvation Army for $6 a couple of weeks ago.
I’m never eating anything else ever. Except maybe cupcakes… and wine. I’m still eating plenty of wine….
“Thems be mah EATIN’ pants.”
I need this. On a shirt. For my birthiversary.
Like, for serious.