Okay. So, I am spending my morning here at the computer trying to work, but I have been “put in my place” and it’s all I can think about today!

A co-worker friend has a son who lives in New York City and is a creator of all things cookbooks for the upper crust, the hoity-toity, the elegant and refined.

Her son attended a “white trash” party this past weekend and won a monetary prize for bringing the best dish/recipe. When my co-worker described the ingredients, I began laughing, realizing that is something I make and love to eat!

I don’t know what’s worse – knowing my palate is in the “white trash” category, or finding out he won $250 from the upper crusts for a recipe that “my kind” eats on a regular basis!

Co-worker and I were laughing at the irony and she then shared one of HER family recipes, complete with jello, oranges, and mayonnaise.

Mayonnaise?! Mayonnaise goes in a SANDWICH, not in a jello salad!

Which then reminded me of dinner with Mom and Dad one evening when my daughter and son-in-law were visiting. Mom got all fancy and used actual salad plates in the upper left corner –  you know, moving up a class on the social scale, rather than the usual one plate per person and food served in the pans sitting on homemade hot pads in the middle of the table.

Anyway, in the middle of these cute little miniature dinner plates other people use, Mom had swankified a piece of iceberg lettuce, added a canned pear half, and topped it off with this beautiful dollop (I love that word – it makes me sound posh) of what we thought was whipped topping, the kind that comes in the white and blue plastic containers and is stored in the freezer.

Au, contraire mon frère.

It wasn’t a white cloud of sweet heaven.

It was MIRACLE WHIP.

WHO PUTS MIRACLE WHIP ON FRUIT??? EVEN IF IT DID COME OUT OF A CAN???

I have not laughed that hard in a very long time.

It would take a miracle to whip that “salad” into something upscale and edible, and my son-in-law’s reaction was PRICELESS.

Oh, the memories.

As co-worker and I were laughing at our Miracle Whip stories of growing up on the other side of the tracks, I remembered my little Girl Scout back at St. George Episcopal School.

The population at our elementary school was definitely from the “north end of town,” if you get my drift. We assimilated only because I taught at the school, not because we also had nannies and maids and pools and vacation homes.

The Brownie troop was planning their annual camp out, and the Brownie leaders thought it would be wonderful to have each little 2^nd grade girl share their favorite meal with the troop to garner some ideas for their cookout. The girls went around the large circle sharing “Chicken Picatta” and “Marinated Beef Tips” and “Calzones with Sausage Marinara…”

And then it was Katrina’s turn to share her favorite meal that Mom makes.

My favorite meal is HAMBURGER HELPER!

So today, I am grateful for laughter on a Friday.

I am grateful for all things boxed and canned and plastic-containered and bagged and yummy-in-my-tummy on the south side ‘o town.

And I am grateful that Hamburger Helper helped my hamburger help me make an incredible-tasting meal that made a huge impression at the dinner table…and around the Brownie circle.