It Was A Dark And Stormy Night... - From the mouth of babes Blog at - 177071

From the mouth of babes

It was a dark and stormy night... 
May 26, 2010 1:42 pm 
Updated: May 28, 2010 4:11 am
It was 2 AM, and the house was deathly silent. My eyes were peeled open wide, but not a flicker of light could penetrate the darkness. I groaned at the thought of a sleepless night, and listened to the rhythmic beat of my own heart. Suddenly, a flash of light entered the room like lightening through a crack in my bedroom door. I sat up, bewildered. Loud, ugly footsteps pounded down the main stairwell and I could hear the faint music of Queen from somewhere just across the hall. There was a slamming of the refrigerator door from the kitchen, and more heavy thuds against the wooden stairs. Another slam, and the light disappeared once more. Queen's distorted guitar solo cut short, and all was still. The beast had come out for his nightly rounds, and had returned to his layer to slumber and feed.

Now, I'm assuming that most of you know this sort of boogie-man very well. They're the person in your household who is what I like to call a "night-feeder." They never eat breakfast, and their lunches are rather pitiful and unhealthy scraps of junk food. They have a heavy dinner, and an even heavier late night snack. In this particular instance, the creature is none other than my 18 year old brother Nick. Just graduated from high school, leaving for a Euro-trip with friends in a week, he's literally been eating us out of house and home, always after hours. My mom has a rather quaint obsession with fruit bowls, and a large amount of apples, peaches and bananas are always available in our house. However, have you ever eaten an apple, three peaches, and two bananas in one sitting? Apparently, Nick has. He also had some pasta and a big bowl of ice cream. Or at least that's what I have come to assume by the remnants he leaves embedded in his bedsheets like fossils at an archeological dig. That's another trait of the night-feeder. They leave their messes uncleaned for a span no less than 48 hours. The third and final rule is that this creature of the night is always perfectly fit and trim, while you struggle to close your belt buckle after the first slice of pie. My brother is 5' 11" and at the most about 180 lbs.

What inspired me to blog about this is that upon waking up this morning, I heard a loud, confused-sounding scream coming from Nick's room. Turns out, he'd gone back last night to get a cup of left over chocolate mousse from the fridge. I'm not sure how it happened but he'd managed to fall asleep prior to eating it, and had rolled all over it in his sleep. His face, pajamas and sheets were a mess. Needless to say, I promised not to crack wise about it at school. But hey, if you've got a food blog, you may as well write in it.
May 26, 2010 1:53 pm
LOL! that was funny, great writing by the way!
May 26, 2010 3:01 pm
Very funny! Thanks!
May 26, 2010 7:50 pm
I can hear you telling his children about this 20 years from now! LOL
May 26, 2010 9:34 pm
That's hilarious. You are a very gifted writer.
May 27, 2010 11:51 am
That's awesome! Love the story..... Reminds me of my siblings!!
May 28, 2010 4:11 am
I have the same type of beast in my home! The sounds of head-banging type music eminating from the bowels of his basement room. The slam of the bedroom door. Tiny footsteps preceding heavier, more hurried steps. (The cats running up the stairs thinking they are getting fed.) Slams of the fridge door or kitchen cabinet. The rustle/rattle of cereal boxes. When I arise in the morning, I see death and destruction (well not really but it sounded good). Empty cereal box, empty milk jug... or perhaps the plastic wrapper off of a slice of cheese. No counting how many times I have reached into the fridge for last night's carefully packaged leftovers for DH's lunch only to search fruitlessly for something that is no longer there. Gladware container found in the sink or counter (aha!). My son is going into the Army in September and he will have a rude awakening. I don't believe the monster is allowed in barracks. Grrr.... (The sound of his stomaach rumbling in boot camp.)
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About Me
I discovered this site one morning when I had been craving french toast and the family was not yet awake to help me out. Until that day I had never really known what french toast was made from. I don't think I've been this addicted to a site since my childhood Neopets obsession.
My favorite things to cook
desserts of course
My favorite family cooking traditions
My mother is a french catholic who married into an old jewish family. As such, our holiday meals always consist of matzah ball soup and buche de Noelle; a truly devine combination.
My cooking triumphs
- poaching an egg all by myself - receiving the most praise from anyone who prepared anything for this year's thanksgiving dinner (I made a lovely banana cake) - preparing lunch for the occupants of an abused women's shelter in my neighborhood
My cooking tragedies
Omitting the sugar and doubling the vanilla from a batch of sour cream pancakes. Never has an attempt at healthy cooking gone so utterly wrong.
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