So we took a little time apart, and it’s been hard. We had been inseparable and it had just gotten to be too much. We needed space to do different things for a while. But now, finally, it’s time. Mac ‘n Cheese and I are back together again.
True, I have complained about it in the past. On the Appalachian Trail, I did fantasize about never eating Mac ‘n Cheese again. And, after having it three times a week for more than a month, even looking at a box made my stomach turn. But things are different now. I’ve changed. Tonight I watched the sun set over Mt Hood. Saw the subtle tints of pink and orange, heard the sounds of the river below me, and I thought, “Mac ‘n Cheese would be perfect right now.”
There were some problems. I forgot to bring salt. I couldn’t find a flat place to setup my stove so my pot kept tipping to the side. And, somehow, while I was cooking, I misplaced my spoon and had to stir with a stick because I was burning the noodles. You might ask, “Addy, it takes six minutes to boil water on your stove, how could you burn something with it?” And I would tell you to stop being so nosy.
But, despite all that, it was still good. Sure, it did feel strange that the day after a Thanksgiving feast, I was sitting in the woods enjoying slightly burnt, under-salted, bark flavored Mac ‘n Cheese, but there I was, and it was just right.
Cue the music: “Reunited and it feels so good.”
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Mac n Cheese n Bark. A glistening combination of sticky burntness. Sounds, erm, special
Ha. It was magically delicious.