The other day there was a show called Hey Kids, Let's Cook! on PBS. A cute little cooking show for kids. My own kids and I had just cooked Mom a Red Velvet cake and pot of coffee for Mother's day and were in the cooking mood. We decided to watch and see if we could learn any tips.
They were making peanut butter apple puffs using canned biscuit dough. When the little girl on the show opened the biscuit dough, the "Mom" on the show had her whack it on the counter to force it open. My kids of course saw nothing wrong with that, but I couldn't help but grieve out loud for them and the experiences they might never get.
It was a tragic moment, as I was thinking about Moms and canned biscuit dough. I was stricken with grief at the loss of proper biscuit packaging. For children now, there is no jack-in-the-box moment in this. As I recall, the dough would decide to spring forth with life about 3/4 of the way pulling the little wrapper around the outside. We knew it was coming, we were just a little bit scared of it, but we had to find out when it would happen! Now we are left to fumble clumsily with poorly constructed packaging - just separating the end of the little wrapper piece from the can is an exercise in patience - only to get thing unwrapped to receive further instructions that you might need to wedge a butter knife into the seam to open.
Some people are okay with this, but on this day - so connected to my kids and so nostalgic, I could only see the tragedy.
It's a wedge-a-butter-knife-into-the-seem kind of life now, and I can accept it. But I sure don't have to like it.
Thank you for your eyeballs!
- DJ
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