Macaroni and Cheese Please

My children would eat Panera's Macaroni and Cheese if it fell onto the back of a rabid racoon who was getting ready to jump in the sewer. This is why I have to keep an eye out for raccoons. Well, that and I'm totally freaked out by those creepy little animals and their beady eyes and the thought that when they look at me they know that I'm 3" shorter than I told the people at the Department of Transportation.

Anyway, the boys love Panera's Macaroni and Cheese so much, on more than one occassion on one of my "I'm going to go nuts soon!" days we've scooped them up, driven to the mall, and strolled them straight in line where I say:

"Giant Mac and Cheese please."

Normally, this works out well, but the other day, when I said, "I'm going to go nuts soon!" and we scooped the kids up and I tried to make them look halfway presentable and said:

"Giant Mac and Cheese please."

The woman behind the counter had the audacity to say:

"We're out."

I stood there, completely befuddled for a minute. What? Out!? Out of Mac and Cheese! I looked frantically at my children and back at her and she looked at me like a prison guard and that's when I knew that woman didn't have children because she would have recognized "frantic mother about to jump ship" face and instead, she just raised her eyebrows and said:

"There's 500 calories in a small dish, you know."

Um. Double what? Stop talking prison guard lady! I already feed my kids Eggos you don't need to tell me how bad Mac and Cheese is - and hello! Take it off your menu if it's so evil. (Editor's note: Please do not remove Mac and Cheese from your menu or I'm likely to die. I love it nearly as much as my children).

I glared a glare at that woman I normally reserve for my children when they start food fights at dinner (who knew 18-month-olds knew about food fights by the way - this is another post for sure).

"We don't want anything then," I said. Though I looked incredibly forlornly at a chocolate chip cookie. And she shrugged at me and I said:

"Except that Cobblestone," in sheer  panic I thought I would walk away without the two pound muffin I was fairly certain God plopped down from heaven into the hands of a Panera baker just for me that morning.

Trust me, I tried to look grumpy when she handed me that muffin, but I think I looked like a kid in a candy store because it was all sorts of deliciousness wrapped into one. Then I gave the muffin to John and the boys while I went into a store. Mistake. I came back and there wasn't much muffin left and Will and Sully looked like they'd been dipped in a vat of frosting and cinnamon. I almost licked their cheeks to get what was left.

Sigh.

Until tomorrow ...