I’m staying out of work today. And I’m glad to report that I’m doing pretty well letting go of any self-judgment about that decision. Which is great, because it’s unpleasant enough to feel bad, without feeling bad about feeling bad.
Wouldn’t you agree?
So I’m letting go of judgmental thoughts. And I’m having Junket thoughts, instead.
In the likely case that you’ve never heard of Junket, dear reader, it’s a pudding that my mother used to make whenever I was sick. I assumed that it was long-gone, but Google tells me that it’s still out there.
Wow. It’s nice to see the old package again.
Who knows how Junket would taste to me today, but I sure did like it then. (I also liked Franco-American canned spaghetti back then, so that tells you a lot.)
It’s true that my mother wasn’t exactly a gourmet cook, but I liked what she cooked for us. There was a consistency and comfort associated with her revolving repertoire of main dishes. The dozen entrees she made included things I still sometimes yearn for.
Especially the casseroles. Tuna Noodle Casserole. American Chopped Suey. Yes, it’s true. I may love going to foodie-type restaurants whenever I can, but I still want tacky casseroles like that for comfort food.
Here’s another confession. When I started getting sick a few days ago, one of the remedies I took was … Tuna Noodle Casserole.
It occurs to me that some people reading this might have some oh-so-understandable reactions to a pudding named Junket and casseroles consisting of tuna. Yes, I’m experiencing the cognitive distortion of Mind Reading now, imagining that for many of you, one-syllable sounds of judgment — such as Yuck! — are forming in your brains.
By the way, sometimes when we guess what other people are thinking, we’re right.
Nevertheless, I am now embracing, with pride, my love of the food my mother served me.
Especially when i was sick.
Vive La Junket!
And with that thrilling declaration, I am now going to open up a can of chicken soup.
Thanks for reading (no matter what your personal food preferences).