One of our favorite football snacks is tortilla chips with melted cheese on top. I was craving them and decided to make some today, although my t-shirt and shorts tan, as well as the thermometer, clearly scream baseball season. I knew we had Tostitos in the cabinet but I also thought they had been there awhile. I pulled out the bag and realized immediately they were crushed. They must have taken the brunt of other snacks on the same shelf. I figured, though, the melted cheese on top would bond the chips together. A craving is a craving after all, not to be denied by some broken pieces in a probably expired bag. When you’re home alone and can’t hop in a car to the store without ordering an Uber, measures of varying degrees are taken.
I sprinkled shredded cheese over the Tostitos and put the plate in the microwave for several minutes. I poured myself some iced tea and carried my creation out to the living room to watch TV. I waited a bit for the cheese to cool then pulled off a portion and took a bite. The taste was startling — the bag I had removed from the cabinet wasn’t crushed tortilla chips . . . it was Frosted Flakes.
I would love to say it was delicious but I was so surprised by the taste and the immediate realization that I had retrieved the wrong bag caused me to spit it out. I started laughing, hard, as I wiped my mouth and my tongue, it was that bad. There has been a lot of sadness as a result of my vision loss, but there is also a level of unparalleled absurdity that requires an equal amount of laughter. This was definitely one of those times.
I’m all for a savory and sweet combination but this duo is a definite don’t-o. As I cleaned up my ill-fated snack I wondered had I poured the crushed Tostitos into a bowl of milk, would that have been worse? When I try to imagine it I only get as far as the spoon right outside my mouth and can go no further than that. Neither would be considered Breakfasts of Champions, that’s for damn sure.
I’m so grateful that when these things happen, when something goes terribly awry as a result of my poor sight, that I am able to laugh. And it’s honest, visceral laughter, the very best kind. And that, if I do say so myself, is what makes you a champion. No matter what you may lose in this life or what mistakes you may make, if you can laugh, you can live. And that’s a one-ingredient recipe even I can’t screw up.