Stouffer's

Do you have any idea how much I LOVE Stouffer's french bread pizza? Put a couple of those puppies in the oven and introduce yourself to heaven.

I do NOT love, however, their large-portioned sized meals with a green box that proclaims, "large, satisfying size." What's up with the sexual innuendo? Whatever.

When I was a child, my mom made many attempts at broadening our culinary horizons. Mind you, my father's idea of high cultured consumables was Old Milwaukee Light. Mine was taco salad (with lots of Fritos), while my brother was at least smart enough to eat whatever green shit was put in front of him. I, on the other hand, would sulk and sit there for what seemed like hours. Which made it even worse as the food got cold. If it was something meaty but disgusting like liver, I could just feed it to Kimba under the table. But even HE wouldn't eat broccoli or cauliflower. Eventually, if I wanted to leave the dinner table, I would have to eat it. Would have been much easier to get it out of the way and carry on. Hmmmmm....... is that a parable for my life?

Kimba was also involved in my many groundings. Apparently, mom never figured out that it didn't really do any good to send me to my room. I would sit there, pissed off for a few minutes, and then Kimba would knock on the door, like clockwork. God, I miss him.