Cheese-Beak

owl

Time: The early 90’s. Location: A Boston Suburb. Perp: Yours truly.

Like most toddlers, I loved putting things in my mouth. I sucked my thumb for a very long time (and had braces for even longer). I loved all food and searched for it everywhere. I even thought that maybe a lot of objects actually were food; I simply hadn’t thought to put them in my mouth…yet. My thought process: “maybe no one has yet dared to put the non-food item in their mouth to discover that it is, in fact, delicious, delicious food. Like Lewis and Clark on their mission west, I shall be the first!” So when I looked at the new decorative owl-shaped candle my mom bought at the farmer’s market, the only protrusion from its ovular shape being a golden-yellow beak, I saw one thing: CHEESE. Hidden cheese, waiting for me to take a bite.

As the candle was originally housed on an unforgivably low shelf, there were no obstacles in the way of my discovery. So bite I did. Bite I did! My two front teeth scraping through the candle, I awaited the salty, processed flavor that I associated with the Velveeta-yellow color of the beak. Of course, what I actually got was wax: flavorless beeswax that I quickly learned was the main component in candles. What a disappointment! What a ruse! I spit out the now-deformed beak and went on my way, in search of something that was much more like, but not necessarily, actual food.

My mom didn’t notice the difference in the candle until months later. We had a rabbit at the time and she assumed it was the culprit, despite the fact that the candle was never in a pet-accessible location. I gladly let poor Honey Bunny take the blame, not wanting to re-live both my shame of misidentifying food and the disgusting, flavorless, tacky sensation that is trying to chew wax. The rabbit never liked me, anyway.

Since then, the mysterious teeth marks have come up in discussion several times as the candle still bears a proud place on the mantel in our living room, deformities and all. By the time I got to college, I finally got up the nerve to tell my mom that those were my tiny teeth marks. I ate the cheese-beak. It was a nerve-wracking confession, but one I felt I had to make. Her reaction? A dismissive, “No, honey, it was the rabbit,” and the conversation moved lightly on to other things. I’ve insisted time and time again that I’m to blame, and each time she refuses to believe me. I’m a degree-wielding, independent, fully-employed 25-year-old adult, and my Mom is still willfully blind to the fact that her baby can do anything wrong. It’s a heart-warming story through and through, as long as I don’t think about how bad that wax tasted.


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Amelita Lijek About Amelita Lijek

Born and raised in a Boston suburb, Amelita is heart-breakingly Boston-accent deficient. This deficiency, among many others, has driven her survival instinct to find the humor in all things, even if they are not cat-related. An avid writer, tweeter, and sleep-enthusiast, Amelita can be found regularly cavorting around New York City improving (IM-prah-ving), sketch writing, and seeking out free samples and Wifi (WHY-fy). She also has carefully cultivated Twitter (@aaaamelita) and SoundCloud (soundcloud.com/aaaamelita) accounts, both of which will most likely be cited either as a) her first ventures into a wildly successful comedy career or b) her first ventures into a wild descent into madness or c) a little bit of both.

Amelita Lijek About Amelita Lijek

Born and raised in a Boston suburb, Amelita is heart-breakingly Boston-accent deficient. This deficiency, among many others, has driven her survival instinct to find the humor in all things, even if they are not cat-related. An avid writer, tweeter, and sleep-enthusiast, Amelita can be found regularly cavorting around New York City improving (IM-prah-ving), sketch writing, and seeking out free samples and Wifi (WHY-fy). She also has carefully cultivated Twitter (@aaaamelita) and SoundCloud (soundcloud.com/aaaamelita) accounts, both of which will most likely be cited either as a) her first ventures into a wildly successful comedy career or b) her first ventures into a wild descent into madness or c) a little bit of both.

Smiles For All