Dear Aunt Jemima
Posted November 21, 2010on:
- In: Uncategorized
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Dear Aunt Jemima,
I’ve always been a fan of your syrup. It’s so sugary and delicious. Nothing tastes better on my pancakes or waffles than your sweet syrup. Growing up as a child my parents refused to buy you because they said you were loaded with artificial ingredients and being native Vermonters they insisted on only using the actual Vermont maple syrup from Vermont…the kind in the small brown jug. Oh how I loved sleepovers at my friends’ houses with pancake breakfasts because I knew their ‘cool’ parents bought your syrup. Yes, you and I had a secret love affair over the years.
But as you know our love affair ended many years ago when I moved out on my own and also started following WW. I could no longer bring myself to purchase your regular maple syrup filled with calories and sugar. I only allowed myself to indulge in the sugar-free syrup. Yes, I know you now make a reduced sugar syrup, but this was sugar-free and as an added bonus it was much cheaper which pleased a penny-pinching coupon clipper like myself.
It’s been years since we’ve come in contact, but then last week the unthinkable happened. We ran out of our beloved maple syrup which is a staple in our household as Mini Minnie Mama must have pancakes at least once a week and they must be covered in syrup. I was too tired from a long vacation and the flu to run out to my favorite supermarket so I ran to the one around the corner which is known for their incredibly high prices. Yes, this was torture for Minnie Mama, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I saw you sitting on the shelf and I swear you called my name. I saw you smiling so kindly at me and your body language begged me to bring you home. I tried my best not to make eye contact with you as I looked around in desperation for my usual syrup, but it was nowhere to be seen. With much anxiety, I cautiously grabbed you from the shelf and put you in my cart. Your outrageously high price tag caused me to have heart pains in the check out line, but you whispered that we were meant to be and I knew I desperately needed you. I told myself that we’d have a long, lasting relationship as your bottle was big and would last for months.
The next morning as my toddler anxiously awaited her delicious pancakes, she played with your bottle at the kitchen table. She liked your pretty face and kept repeating Aunt Jemima as it rolled so effortlessly off her tongue. I generously poured you all over her hot pancakes as she waited impatiently to dig into you. I could see you oozing over her pancakes and the aroma was intoxicating. I missed your scent as our typical syrup doesn’t compare to this. I did it. I took a bite of the pancakes and all at once I was transformed back into time remembering our love affair. Of course you also had a slight love affair with my larger hips, but we don’t need to reminisce about that, do we?! Ahhh, you were too good to be true and I had missed you over the years.
I cleaned up the kitchen and was still savoring the smell of your syrup wafting through the air when I realized I absentmindedly forgot to put you away. My hands were wet from washing dishes and I was trying to listen for my little one playing in the next room. And that’s when it happened. I dropped you. I dropped you hard. The impact of your fall was so great that you immediately burst open on impact all over my kitchen floor. You oozed across the tiles as I frantically tried to clean you up and save as much of you as I could. But it was too late, I had lost you.
Looking back at this I wonder if perhaps it was all a game of Karma. Did you do this to me as payback for the years of not buying your syrup? Or maybe it was my subconscious who dropped you because I knew deep down inside you were too delicious for me and would cause me heartache later on down the road? Either way you were a complete disaster to clean up and it took numerous times of steam cleaning, scrubbing, and disinfecting the floor to stop sticking to it. In fact, my beautiful new VS slippers still stick whenever I walk anywhere now as your syrup is permanently stuck on them.
I am sorry for breaking your heart Aunt Jemima, but our past love affair must stay in the past where it belongs. You’re just too expensive, too fattening, and too damn sticky for my kitchen & thighs.
Good luck & take care,