Sometimes the best things in life are mistakes

My dad didn’t cook very often when we were little. And when he did, there were only a few things he would cook. My dad’s specialty was mac n cheese and my brothers and I loved when he would cook.

We would all try and help him, but really there wasn’t much to do. Occasionally there would be hotdogs cut up in the mac n cheese. It wasn’t very healthy, but it was fun family times for us.

My dad would divide up the mac into 4 bowls, one for each of us and one for him. Then we would all sit down in the living room and watch cartoons.

Every time, my brothers and I would search through our bowls, not just eat the food, but search. If you were the lucky one, then you got the cheese clump!

Maybe you are unfamiliar with the cheese clump, but it’s a small amount of the powder cheese only slightly mixed with the milk and butter.

Finding the cheese clump was like finding the prize at the bottom of the cracker jacks. Only this wasn’t on purpose. Part of this was because my parents bought the value mac n cheese and we loved it, part because instructions were never followed and part was because it wasn’t mixed properly. But we never knew that.

I can remember the first time I found out that the cheese clump wasn’t supposed to be there. D is a bit of a mac n cheese snob, so we buy only Kraft Mac n Cheese. But the snobbery doesn’t stop there, it has to be made correctly, precisely following the recipe and instructions on the box. (I just arbitrarily threw in some milk and butter) Anyway, after D made his mac n cheese I searched for my clump and didn’t find one, so I assumed he was the lucky one. And this is when I found out the truth of the matter.

The clump was just a mistake.

I loved finding the cheese clump, and I still miss it whenever (most of the time) I don’t find one in my bowl.

Makes me wonder what mistakes I will make that will turn into fond memories for my children…