Gone in Sixty Seconds

Once upon a time, a bag of Ruffles lasted about a week in my house. A half-gallon of Rocky Road hung around for at least four days, and a 12-pack of Dr. Pepper lived peacefully among us for at least a week and a half.

No longer. The boy is a teenager.

The boy has been known to polish off several helpings of dinner, rinse his plate and pop a Hungry Man XXL frozen Beer-Battered Chicken Strip meal into the microwave, all in one fluid motion. When stared at, the boy looks annoyed and says, "WHAT?"

Two Chalupas from Taco Bell are a pre-dinner appetizer. A gallon of milk is simply a warm-up, and a box of cereal generally lasts about 20 minutes. I've caught him with his head in the fridge, talking lovingly to the fruit before annihilating it. He salivates when he sees me come home from the grocery store and does the "Happy Dance" around the bags of bread and produce. He's been known to hold a frozen burrito up to the ceiling with both hands and yell, "Behold! I give you the riches of the bean world!"

So........I made spaghetti and meatballs the other night. I was standing at the sink and said over my shoulder, "Get a bowl, Jethro," and turned to find him standing in front of me with a grin.....holding my PUNCHBOWL! My giant punchbowl.

I gotta go now, though. It's been three hours since I went to the store. The pantry is whispering like a forgotten graveyard and the boy is laying in the corner, clutching his stomach and crying. Come to think of it, his sister is crying too, but I think that's because she got too close to him while he was gnawing on the last of the Doritos. Better add Neosporin and Band-Aids to my list.