Overstepping

We don't have a lot of frozen prepared items in this house. I tend to cook extremely antiquated: gas stove, steam fresh veggies, 20 minute rice, etc. It's not because were raw foodies or an pretentious organic household, simply I'm lazy and apathetic and never learned to cook beyond the way I learned circa late seventies.

At age 8.

btw - I shit you not. My mother had two female house-elves and not a day went by without the after school shrieking phone call forcing us to peel carrots, thaw meat, fill pots with beans etc. I think by age 9 I could make pepper steak, by 10 pork chop casserole, and lasagna by heart around age 12. Is it any wonder I hate to cook?

So the other day, in a rare (oft) fit of post holiday conscience (I'm losing weight and THIS time I mean it) I thought to myself "I should purchase some low fat frozen thing ala Working Girl but with microwaves, and have something convenient and at the ready should hunger overtake me. So I don't reach for a roll of ritz and the fluff. (Cuz I talk that way to myself "at the ready" "should hunger overtake")

So I go down the aisle, I see Lean Pockets and I think "Fine. Super. Has the word "Lean", has Weight Watcher exchange points, looks reasonably healthy. 8 grams of fat is bullshit but I can work with it." And I throw 1 package into my carriage. Looks gross but I'd rather eat shit then get any fatter so I deal. Plus it's on sale. So in it goes.

And it sat in my freezer until today.

Because this morning, after three days in NY and a minor soiree at my dads last night, my dulcet darling opted not to go gymnastics, not to do to her playdate, but to instead stay home and indulge in a marathon of OLIVIA. To be fair, I knew at 9am that it wouldn't last, but I hoped she'd be tired enough to stay on the coach all day.

While I moved MORE FUCKING SHIT around my house.
Honestly, fucking Christmas.
Goddamn fucking gifts.
Everywhere.
I live in a goddamn veal pen.

So I moved things. A bag of stuff to go to Linda, a bag to bring to the church, all the candy to go to the crazy shutin, some toys to be distributed out of the car as needed. And don't get me wrong, this stuff isn't junk. It's brand spankin new. But I.Can't.Take.It. Then - shirts for the drycleaner, and a tiny wee bag of returns, specifically the accidental $9 bobby pins at Claire's and the $10 wallet from the Gap, a three hour return process if I ever saw one for $19 bucks and GOD I HATE MYSELF but anyway...

So I spend 4 hours micro organizing to no avail, and my husband gets a poison pen email, and the urchin gets tossed into bed at 2, post pizza, only to find me hungry (meh) and wanting...a roll of Ritz crackers. With Fluff. Copious amounts. Because my frozen banana, peanut butter, fat free milk protein smoothie buzz has worn off (Did you know you can clean your blender with hot water and a drop of dish soap? just run it for a minute on high. Suds away.)

So there I am, poised, Ritz on the mind and as I reach reach reach, past the stacks of stocking candy languishing on the counter, as I reach reach reach for the Ritz I remember "Aha. You do NOT want to do this. You, my dear, have choices. Options if you will."

And the freezer door I open.
For my Lean Pocket.
2 to a pack.
5 points each.
8 grams of fat.

And I take one out. And carefully read the directions.

"1. Unwrap product & insert into unfolded crisping sleeve 2. Place on paper plate & microwave on HIGH (see chart). 3. Fold and lock bottom flaps of the sleeve & wait two minutes before eating. 4. Peel away the tab as you enjoy your sandwich.

And I'm following along but thinking to myself "Why the paper plate? Is it going to affect the cooking? Or are you just assuming on on the run somewhere and can't eat like a human from a regular glass plate." Then I started to get all pissy. "What am I, a fucking animal? You think I don't have dishes? I'm not standing at the convenience store, buddy, I'm a grown ass woman and I'll use a goddamn plate if I want to."

Which I did. Wanted to that is.
And I did. As in used one.

So I opened my tragic little turkey pocket and removed the folded sleeve ready to UNfold it per the instructions whereupon I saw a tiny type trove of OTHER directions. Telling me in three steps how I should, after cooking, make sure to fold the foil into some low budget holder and eat it like a wild wolverine.

Seriously?
SERIOUSLY Lean Pocket People?

What, because I'm eating a Lean Pocket I'm some microwaving 7/11 slob about to drive away with my fistful of turkey delight? What happened to my paper plate? Any reason I can't eat off that? If it was so important to you that I use it...???

The whole thing offended me.

I microwaved it on HIGH for 2 minutes, I waited the 2 (Hey, I'm not a total idiot, I'm not going to burn my mouth over a muchkin size lunch) then I plated the damn thing, got out a knife and fork, cut it like a proper human being and ate it with my canned gingerale. Diet.

And righteously so.

Because honestly, I may be eating your lame little pouch of nothing but I don't need instructions on how to eat it AFTER I've cooked it.
Who in gods name is your demographic?