Bream Gives Me Hiccups Page 2

  TCBY

  Last night, Mom let me choose a restaurant and I chose TCBY, which stands for The Country’s Best Yogurt. I know you’re not supposed to brag and it’s wrong to say that you have the best yogurt in the country, but Mom always says if you want something hard enough, you can get it. And since TCBY wants to have the best yogurt so much that they made it their name, maybe they do have the best yogurt.

  Mom also let me take a friend and I chose Matt, who now likes to be called Matthew. Mom always calls Matthew my “little friend,” which seems strange because Matthew’s taller than me. He’s also taller than Mom and I think she doesn’t like him, but I think that’s just because Matthew and I have a good friendship and Mom doesn’t have any real friendships and Dad hates her and he said so in front of me two separate times before he left.

  When I asked if we could pick up Matthew on the way to TCBY, Mom sighed loudly and said, “It would be easier for everyone involved if he just met us there.” I thought it was a strange thing to say because the only people involved were us and Matthew and he lives on the way to TCBY. But I didn’t argue and Matthew rode his bike and met us in the parking lot.

  When Mom and I saw Matthew, he ran up to us and gave us both a hug, which is something Matthew has started doing a lot. I like it because I like when people hug me, but Mom kind of pulled back because she’s not used to people touching her because no one ever does.

  TCBY has a lot of flavor options, which makes me think they’re really trying hard to be the best. I wanted Mom and Matthew to think that I made a good choice in going to TCBY so I said, “Wow, look at how many different flavors they have,” and then Mom said in a sarcastic voice, “Thou doth protest too much, TCBY!” and Matthew and I looked at each other like we were trying not to laugh because what Mom said made no sense.

  Matthew ordered a Mountain Blackberry Yogurt. He said that he got it because it’s the most interesting color, which is a kind of light purple, but which Matthew called “mauve.” “Mauve” is a word I never heard before and hearing new words is one of the reasons I like Matthew. When I asked why he didn’t get the flavor he liked the most, he said he thought that all the flavors probably tasted the same and so it was best to get something that was “pretty to look at.” Mom rolled her eyes two times: when Matthew said “mauve” and when Matthew said “pretty to look at.”

  The woman behind the counter asked Matthew what he wanted for toppings and he said Blueberries and Cherries. And then the woman said, “You just want two fruits?” Then Mom said, “Yup! Two fruits for my two little fruits!” And then Mom laughed in a cackling way that made everyone uncomfortable. When Mom finally stopped laughing, she said, “Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself,” and then we felt uncomfortable again.

  When the woman asked me what I wanted, I decided to get the same thing as Matthew because he thought about his order in such an interesting way.

  Mom ordered a cup of Dutch Chocolate Yogurt and asked if the chocolate was really shipped in from the Netherlands. The girl said she didn’t know but that she could check. Then Mom told her not to bother and said that she’d get a cup of Dutch Chocolate because it’s “so decadent.” But I could tell by the way that Mom asked about the Netherlands and how she said “so decadent” that she was making fun of TCBY for being not fancy, but the girl behind the counter didn’t know Mom’s sense of humor so she said something real like, “It’s one of our classic flavors.” And Mom said, “Oh, it sounds like a real classic.”

  When the woman asked if Mom wanted toppings, Mom said, “Oh boy! Where to begin? What does your sommelier think of the Butterfinger Pieces?” But since the woman didn’t realize Mom was making fun of TCBY, she said, “Butterfinger Pieces are really popular.” Mom said, “Oh, I’ll bet,” and laughed again.

  Then Matthew and I looked at each other in a secret way because we thought it was weird how two people could have the same conversation but one of them is making fun of it and the other one is taking it seriously. It also made me feel bad for the TCBY woman because she didn’t know she was being made fun of by Mom, which is sadder than someone who does know they’re being made fun of because at least those people can fight back.

  After a few bites of the Mountain Blackberry Yogurt, I got brain freeze and it hurt really bad. Mom said that brain freeze is not a real thing and that I should stop complaining, but Matthew told me to relax and to put my tongue to the roof of my mouth and lick. He demonstrated by showing me his tongue licking the roof of his mouth and then he put my head back and told me to open my mouth. But when I opened my mouth with my head back, Mom got really frantic and said, “Jesus Christ, you two, get a room!”

  Mom ate a few bites of her yogurt, which had a lot of Butterfinger Pieces on it, but I could tell that she didn’t like it, which I kind of expected because she ordered almost all of it sarcastically. At first I felt bad for Mom that she was eating something she didn’t like, but then I realized that Mom could have gotten what me and Matthew got, which was delicious and pretty to look at. Instead, she chose to be mean and that’s why she got something disgusting.

  In a way, Matthew is a lot like TCBY. A few weeks ago, right after he changed his name from Matt to Matthew, he started calling me his best friend. I thought it was strange at first because I didn’t consider him my best friend. I liked Todd and Cara as much as I liked Matthew. But the more Matthew called me his best friend the more I actually felt like his best friend and the more I liked him and the less I liked Todd and Cara. So I guess Matthew is like TCBY because they both said they were the best at something even before the other person agreed. I know it sounds like Matthew and TCBY are trying to have relationships in reverse, but I like to think of everything happening together at the same time.

  Mom is the opposite of Matthew and TCBY. She never says that she’s a good mother. In fact, every time she talks about being a mother, she says excuses like, “Lord knows I wouldn’t win mother of the year,” or “God knows I’ve made my share of mistakes.” But TCBY says they’re the country’s best yogurt and Matthew says he’s my best friend, and I guess, in a way, it forces them to try harder to be the best. But Mom never says she’s the best mother so maybe she doesn’t feel any pressure to be one. Maybe she actually feels pressure to lose mother of the year or make even more mistakes.

  All I know is that I really like Mountain Blackberry Yogurt with Blueberries and Cherries and I really like Matthew. And Mom is angry and divorced from Dad and she doesn’t like Dutch Chocolate with Butterfinger Pieces even though, out of all the options, that’s the one she chose.

  I know that I want to be more like Matthew and TCBY because when you say you’re good at something it makes you try harder to be better and when you say you’re bad at something it makes you try harder to be worse. That’s why I’m giving TCBY 1954 out of 2000 stars.

  ROBERT FROST ELEMENTARY SCHOOL CAFETERIA

  A weird thing happened at school today that the adults were really proud of but that the students thought was stupid. I don’t have a total opinion yet but I think it’s probably somewhere in between.

  Our school was chosen to be part of a new program called “Healthy Lunches, Healthy Choices.” In this program, famous chefs make school lunches that are supposed to be healthy but also good tasting. I know these things sound like opposites but the school is trying to say that they could be the same thing.

  The principal called an assembly before lunch and congratulated us, which seemed strange because we didn’t do anything except go to the school that got chosen by Healthy Lunches, Healthy Choices. The principal was standing next to a chef, who was smiling really big, and there were photographers taking pictures, and whenever the photographers moved, the chef would kind of turn his head so he was always facing them.

  The principal said that we were part of a food revolution and that we were so lucky to have this famous chef personally cook us our first new meal. But we didn’t feel lucky because no one cared about the chef or the principal or even abou
t eating lunch. We just do it because it’s in the schedule.

  Normally the school serves usual school food like spaghetti and meatballs or fish sticks or pizza on Fridays. But I never eat that stuff because it’s usually the same weird texture even though it’s different food and it’s put on a tray by a mean woman with a hairnet who scares me and also chews gum with her mouth open.

  I eat the same thing every day: a chocolate-chocolate chip muffin, which means the cake is chocolate and there are also chocolate chips. I know it doesn’t sound like a muffin is enough food, but they’re not the normal-size muffins. They’re really big and really soft except the top part, which has a crusty edge that’s delicious and is chewy like gum, but a kind you’re allowed to swallow.

  For drinking, I always get a Snapple, which is actually a lemon Snapple, but lemon is the basic flavor so I just say Snapple and they give me a lemon one. I eat and drink the same thing every day because it makes me feel less nervous to know that it’s there.

  Sometimes, if Mom can’t sleep because she’s panicked about her life decisions, she’ll stay up all night and pack me a lunch to distract herself from her bad thoughts.

  But Mom’s lunches are never actually possible to eat. One time, she packed me a single stick of Juicy Fruit gum, a box of toothpicks, and a note asking me to stay late after school because a gentleman friend was coming over. Today she packed me butter, a box of dry macaroni and cheese, and a book of matches. I think she just empties the refrigerator at night and takes the stuff she doesn’t want and puts it in the trash, the garbage disposal, or my lunch bag.

  Anyway, today’s lunch by the famous chef was a few different things and I wrote them down so I would remember all the names of the foods, which I hadn’t really seen before and which I would not really like to see again because they were gross.

  The first thing was called “Arugula Salad with Roasted Beetroots.” This was like a salad, but instead of lettuce and tomatoes, there were bitter leaves that made us all want to puke right there at our tables and beets, which are dark red balls that kind of look like bloody feces and which I have recently discovered produces just that.

  The second thing was called “Poached Salmon with Dill.” The salmon tasted like when you chew on paper and the dill part tasted like cut grass from the garbage of a lawn mower got caught in my teeth.

  And the dessert wasn’t really dessert. It was something called “Compote,” which is really just another word for jelly that’s hot and soupy, like throw-up made from Arugula and Beetroot Salad.

  While we ate the gross food, the chef came around to our tables with a photographer. He put his arms around us and smiled for the pictures and said dumb things like, “Look out diabetes! Here comes a spoonful of compote!” or “I think I see a salmon swimming upstream with a delivery of omega-3s! Next stop, brain development!” He didn’t even realize that we hated his food and, in a way, we hated him and hated that he ruined our day and maybe lunch forever.

  Even if the food was really good, which it wasn’t, the school shouldn’t have made us eat it right away. They should have done it little by little, like putting a small amount of the dill stuff on pizza if they really needed to. I understand that they think they’re being good by trying to make us more healthy, but it just seemed like they were so proud to have the chef there that they didn’t think about what we would have wanted.

  It’s like just because the adults thought it was a great idea, we would too. But kids think differently than adults think. Adults have spent so many years thinking more and more like each other because the more you live with other people the less you think like yourself and the more you think like them. But kids are new people so we still think more normally. That’s why I’m giving Robert Frost Elementary School and Healthy Lunches, Healthy Choices 256 out of 2000 stars.

  ORGANIX VS. THE SAN GENNARO STREET FESTIVAL

  Last night Mom and I went to two very different eating places: an organic restaurant and a street fair. And even though these places were very different, each one made me think about the other one in a new way, which is why I am writing about them together.

  The first place we went to is called Organix and it is an organic and vegan restaurant, which is kind of like going to the doctor for dinner. On the sign outside, under the name Organix, are the words “Helping the Earth Grow,” which makes no sense because the Earth is not getting any bigger, which is something I learned a long time ago and I’m nine.

  When they give you the menu at Organix, they also give you a little booklet called The Organix Bible, which I guess is named after the real Bible, which is the story of Jesus Christ and God. The Organix Bible has a few pages, and while Mom pretended to read it, I actually did read it.

  The Organix Bible was just kind of bragging about how great Organix was by saying things like, “At Organix, we offset our light footprint in Mother Earth’s beautiful skin by composting all organic material.” And I thought that maybe it was a good thing to recycle, but saying things like “Mother Earth’s beautiful skin” seemed kind of stupid and like it was written by a weird child.

  Mom pretended like she was happy with the food, even though it was all disgusting raw vegetables, and acted like she normally eats this way because when the waiter asked if everything was good, Mom smiled and said, “Yes, I love the dressing, what is it?” And the guy said, “Aloe,” and then Mom said, “I thought so! That’s normally what we eat at home.” And the guy said, “Yeah, it really soothes your digestive tract and warms the lumen.” But I could tell Mom didn’t know what he was talking about because she said, “And I think I recently read something about cancer.” And the guy just kind of nodded because there was no real way to respond to what Mom said.

  When the guy asked if we wanted dessert, Mom lied and said, “I’d love to see a menu.” The guy said there was no dessert menu but that “Tonight’s dessert is apples.” That made me and Mom laugh a little bit and Mom said, “Just apples?” And the guy explained that the apples were special and from the other side of the country. And he seemed so proud of his apples that I felt bad for laughing, but Mom didn’t feel bad and she kept laughing as she said, “We’ll just take the check.” I guess I feel bad for people more quickly than Mom does and that is one difference I’ve noticed about us.

  The first thing Mom said when we left Organix was: “Somebody bring me a hamburger!” But I didn’t know who she was talking to and I’m not allowed to go food shopping alone.

  As we were walking back to the car, we passed the San Gennaro Street Festival, which Mom said is “a party that Italian people have outside every year so the city can clean up their mess.” The food smelled so good though, especially after being in Organix, which smelled like a bathroom that just got cleaned. When I asked Mom if we could get something to eat from the street fair, she said that all the food was disgusting. I said that the food at Organix was disgusting too, and Mom agreed but said at least the food at Organix wouldn’t kill us like the San Genarro food.

  I asked Mom for zeppoles, which are fried balls of dough with powdered sugar. Zeppoles are the kind of food that is really good while you’re eating it but that makes you feel disgusting right after. I guess that’s why the San Gennaro Street Festival can only happen once a year.

  Mom said no to the zeppoles but said, “I think we’ve earned a cannoli.” I asked her how we “earned” it and she said, “After ingesting aloe, I deserve a side of beef and a birthday cake.” It’s weird how Mom thinks that eating something you don’t like is the same thing as hard work.

  In our search for a cannoli, we passed four cannoli stands and each one had a different sign:

  The sign on the first cannoli stand said, THE CITY’S BEST CANNOLI.

  The sign on the second cannoli stand said, OLDEST CANNOLI RECIPE.

  The sign on the third cannoli stand said, WORLD’S BEST CANNOLI!!!

  The fourth cannoli stand did not have any sign. It just had a glass window to show the cannolis, which looked like al
l the other cannolis.

  Mom said, in a low and serious voice, “Okay, mister. Which one should we get?” like it was an important test. I said that I thought they were probably all the same and that it didn’t matter, but Mom said we had to find the best one.

  Since there was no way to figure out which cannoli was the best, we had to use the signs to tell us which one to get. I thought very hard about this. And I started thinking that each sign maybe attracts a different kind of person and maybe you could actually tell a little about a person from the cannoli that they choose. For example, maybe someone who really likes New York would get a cannoli from the stand that says, the city’s best cannoli, and maybe someone who was old or a chef would get one from the stand that says, OLDEST CANNOLI RECIPE.

  But I decided that I wanted to get a cannoli from the stand with no sign because I was thinking that, by not having a sign, the stand was not trying to prove anything to me, and I liked them the most. And, in a way, the thing I didn’t like about Organix was the same thing I didn’t like about the signs: the more they told me how great they were and how much they were helping the Earth, the less I wanted to believe it.

  I said, “I want to get a cannoli from the stand with no sign,” but Mom marched up to the WORLD’S BEST!!! stand and got two cannolis. When I asked her why she chose the WORLD’S BEST!!! stand, she said, “It’s the world’s best cannoli! That means there can’t be any better cannoli. In the world! Think about it!”

  But I did think about it. And I think that Mom was wrong. Just because someone says something doesn’t mean it’s true. And I think that the more someone says something, the less it’s probably going to be true. That’s why I’m giving Organix 147 out of 2000 stars and the San Gennaro Street Festival WORLD’S BEST CANNOLI!!! stand 162 out of 2000 stars.