Sunday, February 26, 2012

See Also: In This Way, Childbirth is Like KFC

Today was like Kentucky Fried Chicken. Or glitter nail polish. You know, it seems like a good idea before you actually do it, cause damn those biscuits are good. The way that glitter nail polish looks so disco, as if your fingers were out all night somewhere so cool the rest of you couldn't get past the doorman. And then it begins to chip, or maybe you're two biscuits in and boooof, the butter and the honey, something doesn't feel so good, maybe some cole slaw will right things, but no, oh god no, and regular old nail polish never removes the glitter, you know that now, right? Instead you have to pick at it with your fingers for days, and you vow to never again eat Kentucky Fried Chicken, and you don't. At least not for a few years anyway, until one day you forget, and you smell the biscuits from across the street and think god, when was the last time?...

All that to say that today I did not eat KFC or paint my nails, but worse. I went to Chinatown with my mom, Zoey and Ozzy. It had been 3 years since my last visit, and really I only went again because Zoey could no longer squeeze into her silk pajamas. So we loaded ourselves into the car and drove and parked and walked and smelled and smiled tightly, the people, there were so many people, me with the stroller and my mom beginning to feel dizzy. I need to sit down, she said, I need to feed Ozzy, I said, and we pushed and shuffled, my hand tightly holding Zoey's, ducks hanging from bent necks in store windows piled high with dried lotus root and salted turnips, pushed through the people pushing past us, a man blowing his nose into the gutter as I very nearly pushed Ozzy's stroller into the stream of snot. Let's never do this again, I said to my mom later when we finally got back to the car. Agreed, she said. Three years from now, if one of us says hey, let's take the kids to Chinatown, the other one has to remember what a terrible idea it is and say no. And we promised we would, except we won't because biscuits always smell heavenly from across the street, and then there's this:
And even though Ozzy didn't get any pajamas of his own (mostly because the kerosene smell of the fabric scares me just a little), here is a photo of him from last weekend, just because.
Also just because?...When was the last time you had KFC?


Robin said...

good grief, your kids are beautiful!

I last had kfc 6ish years ago when I worked in the burbs and there was one nearby. yes, those biscuts lure you in, but the lead tummy feeling later is so not worth it.

Chris said...

Two years ago...made me think of the Bad Idea Jeans commercials from SNL so many years ago :-)

Anonymous said...

OMG, I'm having some right now as I read your blog... That's right, the biscuit, wedge fries and chicken strips.

tbags74 said...

Wow. Your description of Chinatown is right on. I can't even imagine navigating those sidewalks with a stroller. It was a nightmare trying to drag my four year old daughter through the crowds and she kept trying to splash in the fish guts and blood puddles. Shudder.

Sara said...

I had KFC on Valentine's Day. Prior to then I can't remember. My boyfriend was working late and traffic in LA was out of control. My eyes lighted up when I saw the KFC had a drive-thru. I immediately pulled over and out of the grid lock mess.

"Can I get the chicken strip combo with biscuits and cole slaw on the side?"

"We're out of biscuits. They wont be ready for another 12 minutes."

There was a car behind me and I didn't have the patience to wait. It was a terrible dining choice and I could sense the girl who took my order felt bad for me. I wanted to shout to her "I have a boyfriend I swear and he wouldn't want this for me!"

The upside: I was impressed with my ability to drive and dip my chicken strips into the delicious honey mustard.