There started the love of coconut custard pie. Yeah, and the many trips to the store and my eating a whole pie all by myself. All by myself. That's it.
Mind you, I am now overweight. It's not because of that pie because we could lay blame on cheesecake, donuts, bread, and any other sweet pastry or any thing made of refined white flour that I like. You can also blame three kids later after 12 years, a sedentary job, pure laziness and an unused gym club membership (that's a top level gym club membership, also).
I think my mother is most reminded of my nice slim size 7/9 figure which is not exactly slim in societal norms but damn, I looked good. She no longer lives with me but she comes and visits. Every time she comes and visits I am scolded about what I should or shouldn't eat. I shouldn't eat after 6p. I shouldn't buy sweets. I shouldn't, I shouldn't, I shouldn't. After all, she's my mother even after 39 years and she is so worried about my weight.
She looks at me. Serious look of concern on her face. I think she is almost going to cry. I think she is going to say something serious but I know, I know. It's all about how I got this way and how sad it is for her. She tells this to me, my sister, my other sister, her best friend, anybody who will listen to her and beeeelieeeveee that her daughter was not this way. How could she be this way? Please believe her when she says Meow Meow used to be so skinny.
So, here comes Coconut Custard pie.
My mom is torturing me staying 3 months with me because she misses me. Do I miss her? That's for another topic but Yes, I will say it. And I will say what I mean!! (Note to free flow diary/future blog postings: The Visits).
We're at the local supermarket, buying extras for the house. Screeching halt -sign reads: "Oops, we've overbaked." Damn those bakers!!! Damn them to kingdom come! What's on the rack? Chocolate croissants. Nope. Tomato focaccia bread. Nope. Custard pie?? What? Noooooo. It's Coconut Custard Pie! Double Damn!
Do I pick it up? Thoughts race in my mind? Why the hell am I here with my mother? On this day? At this supermarket?
ANDDD ANNND it's two dollars off! It's 4.99, it's 2.50. That makes it even more important TO ME.
I can pick it up, take it in my card, hide it under my grocery bag and make my mother wait up front for me but nooo. She wouldn't do that. She's too nosy. She has to see what I'm paying. Ok, so I just it put in on the belt at the register. When she sees it. I'll say it's for the office.
Wrong. I'm the only one that works at my office. I'm a contractor and have my own office, and generally, there's no one there but my self. And of course in this instance, the coconut custard pie and me.
Sadness. I can't take the pressure. I can't take the pie. Just to see her look, one of concern, one of disgust, one of awe (for my outright lie) and one of disdain (for my gluttony). I reluctantly let go of the pie and don't take it with me.
Fast forward to today: Squirrel and I talk about my need for the frickin' coconut custard pie. Shitttt. I want that pie. I deserve that pie. I told Squirrel about my white pants (Another Future blog posting: White Pants Reggaeton). So, Squirrel says next time, your mother complains about your weight or what you are going to eat or if you want to eat that custard pie, you say...
" I can have that custard pie, dammit, mom! I deserve it. Suppose I don't get that custard pie? I get run over today by a car or a shopping cart? I will be mad as hell." That was good enough for me. You're right Squirrel!
But, then again. I might not be alive to be able to even complain about not having the pie. Knowing me, I sure as hell will come back and haunt my mom about my custard pie. "Giveee meeee myyyyy cuussstarrrrrrrd pieeeeeeee. Pieeeeeeeee-eehhhhhhhh!" - MEOW MEOW
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