Willie Wonka’s Factory of Near-Death Experiences

I’ve been having a lovely day, despite of an inauspicious moment this morning when I was getting dressed and wondered what happened to my sweater.  I wondered if I had somehow shrunk it, which seemed unlikely since I never put sweaters in the dryer.  The usually long, drapey sweater was fitting bizarrely like a crop top.  I finally realized – and don’t think too hard about how I achieved this – that I had put it on upside down. 

The boys and I have been reading Roald Dahl books lately, and it occurred to me while reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory that no book of that type could be written in today’s cultural climate.  For one thing, Charlie and his family are starving to death and take much joy and salvation in being offered a lifetime supply of candy.  I need not reference the obvious objections to excessive sugar intake, childhood obesity, etc., but I will mention that throughout the book I kept thinking lawsuit waiting to happen.  I mean, the children constantly going missing and then ending up a) stretched b) emaciated c) blue?  I kept thinking that Mr. Wonka had better have a good lawyer, and then I recalled that back in the day of Charlie’s inception the children’s downfalls due to their own gluttony, greed, and general assholishness would have been considered just desserts (see what I did there?).  In any case, the dramatic conclusion was much cheered by my own children. 

Speaking of chocolate, I managed to get all of the teachers’ gifts purchased and arranged today, and chocolate featured strongly.  I also stopped by my local Planet Organic to buy hazelnuts, and realized I also needed raw cashews, and hey, that’s a great price for tofu, and wow, coconut milk is $1/can less than at my regular, old-people, non-pretentious grocery store.  I went to the cashier with four cans of coconut milk, two packages of tofu, and two large bags of bulk raw nuts, and I felt a bit like a pretentious douchebag.  Then I realized where I was and felt that probably there were many, many more people who were many times the pretentious douchebag that I am, and so instead I just felt the kind of excitement that only comes from buying so many thrilling ingredients for various vegan recipes.  Because yesterday I made the most delicious dessert from coconut milk, dark chocolate, hazelnuts and – of all things – dates; it was so scrumptious that my husband, my red meat loving husband, said it was the single best thing I have ever made.  Honestly, he probably high-fived himself for marrying me, it was THAT GOOD.  Or maybe he was just saying that to get me into bed; either way.  Everybody wins!  And nobody, hopefully, meets their maker in a violent ending a la Willie Wonka’s factory of near-death experiences.

Okay, by now everyone who watches Mad Men has seen this week’s episode, right?  So I can say this without fear of spoiling it for anyone?  OF COURSE BOB IS GAY.  I called that weeks ago, based entirely on his short shorts.  Also, was I the only one who loved the line “Imagine if every time Ginger Rogers jumped in the air, Fred Astaire punched her in the face!”?  I giggle every time I think about it, which seems to be more often than is appropriate.  That is quite the mental image.  Also fabulous was the scene when poor demented Mrs. Campbell talks about her nurse, Manolo, awakening feelings in her loins and Pete snaps “Do NOT be more specific!”  Hee hee, I feel like the line do NOT be more specific could be used in so many different situations.  I’m saving that for later.  Not to mention “Diplomacy Club is just another excuse to make out!”  I have to disagree on that one; having been in Model Parliament in high school, there was no making out that I could discern.  Although I could be wrong on that front; I may have been too absorbed in backcombing my spiral permed hair to notice.

Happy early Father’s Day to all you daddy-o’s out there.  Hey Daddy-O.  Don’t be a square.