One day your fridge has got nothing but Diet Coke and relish in it; the gas company sends you quarterly letters wondering if you're alive, and if you are, would you maybe just like to disconnect the gas altogether, and you take them up on it because then you could finally use the oven to store some magazines; and the only thing you "cook" is sandwiches made with the tiny jar of organic peanut butter, individually sold bananas, and half a loaf of whatever recognizable white bread is at the Korean deli at midnight.
And then suddenly the kitchen timer goes off, and you look around and realize you're making freakin' cupcakes for a preschool pajama party; it'll take you a year to work through that Costco-sized jar of Skippy because everywhere you go is peanut-free; and the Pepperidge Farm bread your wife bought at the grocery store in the suburbs is so "Family Size!" it won't fit in any cupboard, but no sweat, it'll be gone in two days.
A. i love the way you tell it like it is.
B. i remember that bread from my youth in NJ. i HATED it. all i wanted was wonderbread like all the other kids had. nostalgia is so 2009.