Broccoli & Cheetos (a.k.a. My Life)

Husband and I went out for dinner last night with friends who were in from Chicago. We went to the delectable Park Avenue Autumn (restaurant changes name and decor every season which is way cool if you ask me. Oh, and this gastronomical haven is owned by a fellow Dalton alum. Go Tigers!) It was a civilized dinner, stuffed with bits of proper conversation and measured laughter. The food was yummy. My absolute favorite part of the evening?

Broccoli and Cheetos.

I kid not. This was a side dish. And we ordered it. And when it came, I studied the little dish full of bright green and electric orange. And I smiled. I smiled because I am irrationally obsessed with broccoli and Cheetos remind me of childhood. I smiled also because that in that little dish, I saw my life.

My life?

Yes. My life. My life is not about consistency, but contrast. My life is about spit up and stilettos, Play-Doh and Plato, wrangling and writing, virtual community and virtual insanity. My life is part organic, part artificial. My life is part nutritious bounty, part delicious junk. My life is part serious, full of iron and folate and existential vitamins, and part silly, full of chemical-y goodness and ingredients I can't begin to pronounce. This is my life. And I love it. It is quite yummy. (Except when it's not.)

Broccoli and Cheetos. Genius. Yum.

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Quick. Describe your life with a dish. Or feel free to tell me that I am a bit dramatic to see my existence reflected in a small bowl. Just say something. I find your words (like broccoli and Cheetos) to be utterly delicious.