Post by Sabla on Jun 22, 2007 11:12:21 GMT -5
The Ultimate Sandwich
My goal: To make the ultimate sandwich. What it consists of: Everything. Anything in the fridge is game, that’s the beauty of it all, that’s what makes it ultimate. The trouble is finding the right combination of ingredients.
Open jars were scattered across any flat surface available, leaving the fridge nearly bare. Mayonnaise, pickle, peanut butter, and jam jars were out, along with margarine tubs and condiments. Almost like a real-life Eye Spy book in our kitchen.
But the real action lied on the kitchen table, where the magic was taking place.
A chair, hastily placed with anxious determination, was shoved up against the table. My bare feet were settled on it, toes splayed out so I could feel the cool wood below, though I hardly paid any attention. All my concentration was focused on the slab of bread in my hand and the butter knife I wield.
My tongue sticks out, my brow knitted together as I slather on a heaping portion of sour cream. I smiled, admiring my handiwork. Then I reached out, carefully placing it atop my glorious sandwich with care. I licked my fingers, proud of my craftsmanship.
Now I just need the taster.
I climbed down off the chair, heading towards the living room. The last few times I made a sandwich in this proportions I had volunteered my dog, to try it. And he gladly ate the whole thing, even licked the plate clean. So I knew the ultimate sandwich must taste good.
But all of this had been kept secret. Mommy still didn’t know about my grand chef skills. I’ve been hiding it, wanting the ultimate sandwich to be a great Mother’s Day surprise. Daddy was glad to help, after I calmed him down and explained to him what the mess was. Then he was thrilled with my idea supporting me and keeping Mommy busy until my experimenting was complete, so I knew my surprise must’ve been a good one.
I peeked around the corner, just as Mommy said goodbye to whoever she was talking to on the phone. I then stepped into the room, walking right up to her and hugged her thigh, which is as far up as I could reach.
“Happy Moder’s Day, Mommy!” I exclaim.
She smiled, kneeling down to my level, “Thank you, Daniel. I’m happy to hear that you remembered.”
I smiled back, basking in her praise and attention, “Yeah, and I’ve got a surprise!” I exclaimed, and then I ran off towards the kitchen, tugging her hand.
After we made the short trip across the hall, I climbed up onto the chair, beaming at her. “I made you an uldimant sandwich!” I told her proudly, “Just for you.” I then put my hand to my mouth, kissing as I pulled it away, mimicking the French chefs. “Viola!”
Mommy stood hesitant, although still smiling. “Why, thank you Daniel,” she said, sitting at the table and disappearing behind my masterpiece. “It’s… lovely.”
Daddy then entered the room, stepping up beside me. “Oh, he showed you the sandwich. You know, he made this just for you… With a little help, of course.” he winked at her, smiling.
She sighed, eyeing him as she held up the sandwich. The sandwich was so big that it nearly fell out of her hands. Then she took a bite out of my ultimate sandwich. “Mmm, this is really good.” she said, giving me an approving compliment. She swallowed it, masking a grimace with a phony smile, then said, “You should be a chef when you grow up.” then she took another hesitant bite. “Mmm, thish ish reawwy goo’!” She mumbled through her full mouth.
Daddy patted me on the shoulder, “Alright, Daniel, go out and play.” he said, and I obeyed, happy to know that Mommy enjoyed her surprise, and hopped off the chair.
I traveled towards the backdoor, but before it swung shut, I faintly heard Mommy exclaim, “What did you let him put in here?!?!” Daddy laughed, then the screen door closed behind me and I smiled, walking out to play on my swing set.