A number of years ago I came home from work with some groceries, which was uncommon for me. Coming home from work was not uncommon, the grocery part was. This was enough of a deviation from my normal behavior to merit the Spanish Inquisition from the Department of Procurement. “What did you buy?” the missus asked, luring me into a spirited exchange which I had no choice but to enter.
“I have red Jello, green Jello and low fat whip cream.” I replied, knowing right away that my simple answer was not going to end the questioning.
“We have all that at home” she replied. Now I knew we didn’t have all that at home, but at least I knew better than to say that aloud.
“Why would you buy that?” she asked.
“The office is having a Christmas potluck and I was going to bring Jello, it’s an old family recipe” I replied. A weak attempt at humour that didn’t get a laugh, or a smirk or even the usual groan for that matter.
“You can’t bring Jello” she said, at this point I knew I was in a debate I was sure to lose.
“What’s wrong with Jello? Everybody loves Jello. Red and green Jello, with whip cream. That’s the most Christmassy thing in the world.” I tend exaggerate at times to make my point, don’t we all? I also generalize at times.
“How much does Jello cost?” she asked, luring me into a logic trap I would not emerge from.
“99₵?” I replied. “
“And whip cream, low fat?” I think I detected a touch of sarcasm in how she said “low fat”.
“$2.50”
“Everyone knows that Jello costs next to nothing and they’re all going to think you’re a cheap bastard” she stated, and that was the end of the debate.
I didn’t realize that was the end of the debate. I said “Everyone already knows I‘m a cheap bastard.”
Then she said, “You’re not taking Jello to a potluck.” At that point I realized that was the end of the debate.
And that is why I brought chicken wings from Sobeys to the Christmas potluck that year, and I left the price tag on the box.
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