8/21/05 FOOD FIGHT!

Back in the early 70s, at my aunt & uncle’s house in Santa Monica, there was a vicious pudding fight.

My sister, two cousins and I made a huge bowl of chocolate pudding and sat down at the kitchen table to eat it. My sister E was sitting across from my cousin C. They were having a staring contest. You know...the ones where you try not to laugh. Anyway, neither of them was cracking. I don’t know how long they went on, but eventually my cousin C became impatient in his bid to win this round of staring. He flicked a spoonful of pudding across the table at my sister. The blob of chocolate pudding hit her squarely in the middle of the face. She flicked one back at him and hit him in the face.

I can’t remember all the details of the escalation of “hostilities,” but I do remember all four of us digging in the bowl with bare hands, scooping out as much pudding as we could carry into battle.

By the time it was over pudding was everywhere, and I mean everywhere. Our supply of ammunition depleted, we relaxed and took a short break. Then we had the terrifying realization that we did have parents to answer to, and that they would be back. Adversaries were now allies, bound by a common desire not to get in trouble, and a common goal: Clean the damned house, and quickly! So we cleaned. We cleaned quickly and we cleaned well. We were quite proud of ourselves.

It was hard to suppress the laughter (and terror) when our parents got home and started to make their way around the house. Finally, after we were sufficiently confident that we could chock that escapade as a victory for kids everywhere, we relaxed. Then the phone rang. My uncle, who was in the hallway when it rang, answered the old rotary-dial phone in the hutch in the wall (or whatever that’s called).

He came into the living room after he hung up and asked us why there was chocolate pudding on the phone in the hallway. Stricken with fear, we looked at each other for a few short seconds before erupting in laughter. When we finally regained control, and the ability to produce coherent and complete sentences in English, we confessed.

Fortunately, no beatings were perpetrated. The house was clean and nothing had been broken so all we got was a brief “why you guys shouldn’t do things like that” lecture.

C