Cheetos and Calvinism

Picture me sitting down at my laptop, covered in orange crumbs. I would provide a photo, but I’m a little Amish when it comes to selfies.

I think that Cheetos are the snack food equivalent to eating a slab of sauce-laden ribs (as opposed to sauce bin-laden ribs, for any Islamic readers I may possibly have). Sorry, I digressed in the first sentence again. 
Dang!
Let me start over.
Eating Cheetos is like devouring a plateful of spaghetti with powdered sauce using only your hands and mouth.

That didn’t sound right either.
Cheetos are really messy! Ok? There!
(Why was that so difficult to write? Sometimes flowery language and trying to relate things to Middle Eastern pork condiments can get in the way of your main point. When I publish a book on being a better writer, I’ll have to remember to include the part about not letting condiments detract from your story. It’s like that time I tried to start my mother-in-law’s obituary with a haiku about horse radish. It just didn’t work.)
Okay, where was I?
Ah, Cheetos. (I’m still munching away on them and will need to vacuum this chair when I’m done.) They’re the only snack food that causes me to have to change clothes after eating a bag. Usually emergency wardrobe changes are reserved for falling in puddles or accidentally letting the back of your dress fall into the toilet when using the bathroom.
It just sounds lame to have to say “sorry I had to run home to change because I ate a bag of Cheetos.” And you think you can just brush the orange powder right off, but you can’t. It’s like glitter. No matter how hard you try to remove a piece of glitter from your face, it’s stuck there for a month.
Demetri Martin calls glitter “the herpes of crafting supplies” for that reason. So I guess that makes Cheetos the herpes of puffed snacks. Ew! Somehow comparing food to a recurring communicable disease just zaps the yum appeal right out of it.  
I sat down to write something sweet and touching about my dad and what the last three days have been like without him. Instead I’ve just spent 10 minutes waxing nonsensical about the inconvenience of Cheetos powder.
My friend Amy would say that it was meant to be. “Girl you weren’t being silly. God led you to write about Cheetos today because he knew that it would help a lot of people.” Amy doesn’t get upset about much that happens to her because she believes that everything is destiny, even dialing a number and getting that super loud FAX beep in your ear. It’s all meant to be. 
I once asked her if she was a Calvinist. She replied, “No, I usually wear American Eagle.”
I’m not sure what you were supposed to learn from this post. Wear gloves and a bib when eating Cheetos? Be more like Amy? Stay away from glitter? Try not to let condiments distract you?
I’ll let you decide.

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One Response to Cheetos and Calvinism

  1. Julie Becker says:

    I love the Cheetos finger pic! I can totally relate. 🙂

    Like

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