I introduced Chris to cinnamon. I thought he was strong. I thought he could handle it. I didn’t know cinnamon would become a contest-prep obsession.
The gateway cinnamon was in oatmeal. Years ago, I showed Chris how just a bit of cinnamon added to oatmeal and combined with Equal and blueberries is delicious. Over the years, he started adding more and more cinnamon to his oatmeal; I neglected to notice this dangerous progression. Around the start of this contest-prep, I showed Chris how I also put cinnamon and Equal in my Greek yogurt; Chris started doing the same…with large amounts of cinnamon.
We don’t buy the modest, cylindrical, cinnamon container; we buy the humongous, we-are-serious-about-our-cinnamon box. Usually, Chris has back-up cinnamon in the cabinet too (for cinnamon emergencies I suppose).
Despite such cinnamon intensity, I thought Chris was handling his cinnamon OK until the other day when I walked into the kitchen, where Chris had made sweet potatoes, and saw this:
That is only cinnamon on those sweet potatoes. That is a full half centimeter layer of cinnamon. A half centimeter. Tomorrow, I will take Chris to the cinnamonologist for treatment.
To be fair to cinnamon, it’s not his only spice obsession. As he gets further and further into the diet, all spices are highly exciting. He has these anonymous mixed spices that he enthusiastically dumps on everything (except, of course, for the foods he has already doused with cinnamon). Usually, after spicing foods to the extreme, he then tells me how amazing the food is. What I want to say, when he tells me how good his spiced broccoli in a bag is, is, “Yeah, but know what else is good? Chocolate ice cream,” but that would be mean so I nod politely and then go outside to cough the spice-dense air out of my spice-blackened lungs.
I sometimes contemplate putting drywall crumbles on his food, telling him it’s a new spice, and seeing if he tells me that it is delicious. Because he would tell me that it is delicious. Because he’s hungry a lot these days. The other day I was eating what had aspired to be a taco salad but, due to my hunger-induced meal-prep corner cutting, was basically ground beef and lettuce, and Chris exclaimed, “Wow, that looks amazing!” Ground beef and lettuce do not look amazing.
Along with excessive spicing, Chris is also very, very into coffee right now. He recently decided that your standard-sized travel mugs just weren’t cutting it. Thus, he purchased a mammoth, transportable, coffee container. The thing is intimidating. I imagine him entering a meeting at work, where people sit calmly around a table with traditional coffee cups, and Chris, smiling, plunks this monster down. I then imagine Chris’s coffee monster eating the traditional coffee cups.
Speaking of work, the semester has not started yet so Chris and I are not going into the office regularly, but, the other day, Chris went in for a few hours. Below is what he brought to sustain himself:
This day at the office, Chris’s scale gave him the “low battery” message and shut-off. Luckily, he had already weighed what he needed to and catastophe was averted. He bought batteries later that night and was about to put them in the scale when he realized that it was working again. Wha?! Eventually he realized, with his brilliance, that he had put the food scale on top of the frozen ice pack in the cooler. And thus, we all learned that food scales cease to function when put on top of frozen ice packs in coolers.
And that’s the kind of fascinating stuff going on around here…
Please let me know if you need the number of a good cinnamonologist.