Saga of the Cheese
That bag of cheese curds used to be an ordinary bag of cheese curds settled amongst its friends in a grocery store’s refrigerated dairy case. It had a life of ease only disturbed when a distracted shopper’s fingers ran across its label on the way to the more popular sharp white cheddars.
It was just chillin’, knowing that nobody in their right mind would choose cheese curds over sharp white cheddar.
All that would change, however, the day my husband strolled into that store with an insane craving for – you guessed it – cheese curds.
The sharp white cheddar winced as my husband’s hand hovered over it momentarily. Then it sighed in relief and smiled knowingly inside its shiny wrapper as my husband chose the unsuspecting cheese curds. The sharp white cheddar thought it knew what would occur after the bag of cheese curds passed through the scanner at checkout, but, in truth, it couldn’t possibly have foreseen the unbelievable circumstances in which the cheese curds found themselves.
We were on vacation… in the Northeast… in the winter. Why? Obviously, because we needed our heads examined. This particular day the high was 14 degrees. Let me reiterate: The HIGH was 14 stinkin’ degrees!
We had a long drive ahead of us and of course, we needed snacks for the road. I bought chewing gum and cookies and my husband bought the soon-to-be infamous cheese curds.
After driving an hour or so in blinding snow showers, with the heat blasting in the mini-van, the cheese curds turned soft. My husband doesn’t like warm cheese curds.
“ We should’ve brought a cooler.” he said.
I was driving at the time and peering through the falling snow, I said, “Or we could just throw them on the hood of the car and let them fend for themselves. It looks like hell has finally frozen over.”
I’m sure I saw the cheese curds grimace.
“I have a better idea,” my genius of a hubby said. He let a blast of arctic air in as he opened his passenger-side window, put the bag of cheese curds outside, and closed the window on the bag. He had effectively found a safe place to cool his cheese curds. We grinned at each other, enjoying his cleverness.
I was still driving forty-five minutes later, when my gum went stale and the cookies started to look good. With my eyes carefully glued to the slippery road, I opened my window to dispose of my gum.
It certainly was not my fault that the manufacturer of our minivan placed the buttons for both windows side by side.
Suddenly, the bag of cheese curds went airborne and its subsequent journey after that can only be determined in one’s imagination.
My husband jerked his head from the cheese curds - which were there one minute and vanished the next - to me with a stunned expression that reminded me of Desi Arnez when Lucy did something remarkably stupid. He was speechless with shock. His cheese curds were gone!
Unfortunately, my imagination started imagining immediately and all I could do was laugh hysterically at his stunned expression while simultaneously trying to apologize and keep the minivan from sliding off the road.
I sobered as I imagined the news that evening: “There was a twenty car pile-up on the interstate this afternoon. Fortunately, there were no injuries. Police could not say for certain what caused the disaster, but drivers reported large, sticky snowflakes that fused with their wipers and became one with the windshield.”