Raie Week 2: (Almost) Midnight Dairy Crisis
Eleven twenty-nine PM. I wake up with a freakishly lukewarm sweat. Uncomfortable, yes, I know. I wake up with one goal in mind: Secure a crisped bowl of mac and cheese. The house has turned into a horror game of sorts, with each creak of the floorboard giving away my presence. Under normal circumstances, my house would have been the typical boisterous abode with my dog Leo’s barks and my mother’s constant gabbing about chores and work and homework and even more chores. But tonight? Tonight this house is a minefield requiring me to walk carefully. I tell myself to be as light as a feather. To tread with caution. Tread. With. Absolute. Caution.
My dog wakes up, his sleepy eyes somewhat eager to guide his owner. Cute, but his aid in my operation is unnecessary. I give him the “stay” hand signal to indicate that everything is okay. With Leo keeping my mother at bay, I set out on my quest to satiate my stomach. Hundreds of millions of homes in Northern America use wooden floorboards as tiles. Yet, my house was the lucky one to have the creakiest floorboards of this decade. The stairs are my weak point. I peer into the dark abyss below and it seems purely unconquerable. Even so, I suck up whatever fear hinders me and step into the void.
However, there is one teensy-weensy but ever-so-crucial tiny detail that I have forgotten: I am lactose intolerant. I possess a love-hate relationship with being identified as a lactose intolerant. My friends seem to baby my stomach and I somewhat appreciate their effort in identifying dairy in every single piece of food they give me. The title of lactose intolerant seems to shrink my diet into any food lacking dairy. Sure, it does give me a reason to refuse foods I dislike such as cottage cheese, but it also fills me with spite. There was this one time in my younger years where I did not believe I was a lactose intolerant and displayed in front of me a variety of dairy products including a glass of milk, a slice of swiss cheese, a slice of cheddar cheese, a bottle of Danimal yogurt, and a scoop of vanilla ice cream. I scarfed down each plate of food and low and behold, my stomach was not happy. For years I have tried so hard in defying being lactose intolerant and succeeded with one of the world’s greatest inventions: A tablet of lactaid.
This tablet of lactaid I ingested after I ate my mac and cheese saved me for the night. For extra good measure, I drank a cup of water from our water pitcher to really make sure it went down. My stomach was safe for another day and my identity as a lactose intolerant did not bring me down that fated night.
The beginning of your blog almost sounded like the start of a horror movie to me—and I hate horror movies. But as I continued reading, I realized that we are quite similar. I, like you, love a good late-night snack. Usually for me, I go for sweeter foods because I have a huge sweet tooth. I find myself making chocolate chip waffles or a yummy mug cake. There are occasional days where I feel like eating something spicy, so on those days, I’ll make myself a piping hot bowl of Buldak ramen. I also share your same obstacle of trying to not wake my parents. That task is not as difficult for me as it is for you, because I do not have a dog or wood stairs (but they still creak). My dad, however, is a very light sleeper and can easily detect movement or noise in the house, so it’s extremely important that I don’t make even a slight bit of noise or I risk getting caught and sent back to bed with no midnight snack.
ReplyDeleteI have a funny story of something like this happening to me while I was sleeping over with two of my family friends in one of their homes all the way in Minneapolis. I remember all the parents were asleep, but my friends and I were really hungry. So we decided to sneak out of our room and tiptoe down each and every stair to get to the kitchen. With every step we took, the stairs creaked, and we couldn’t hold in our laughter, which ended up being louder than the actual stairs creaking. But thankfully, we didn’t wake any of our parents (or so we thought). After successfully making it to the pantry in the kitchen, we secured a box of Costco chocolate chip cookies and started making our way back up the stairs. Every time one of them creaked, we would try so hard not to laugh, but we weren’t too good at it. We all went back to my friend's room and let out a sigh of relief, thinking we were in the clear. However, the next morning, as we made our way downstairs, we started getting interrogated by all the parents asking us what we were doing so late at night. We denied the accusation as much as we could, but ended up having to tell the truth. It was sad, but at least we got our late-night snack!
Hi Raie! I loved the detail in your story. You included so much powerful imagery; I felt like I was sneaking down those creaky floorboards right beside you. And, I was right there with you as you prepared the pot of “heavenly” mac n’ cheese. My dad is a light sleeper too, and he is who I have to watch out for when I make that apprehensive journey down the stairs towards the kitchen.
ReplyDeleteBut, my favorite part has to be what came next: you are lactose intolerant! It was a comedic plot twist that I never expected—all that effort you put towards preparing this meal just for your stomach to scold you later on. I cannot imagine my life without ice cream, cheesecake, creamy iced lattes, and most importantly, gooey mac n’ cheese. However, I am glad that you can enjoy your favorite dairy-rich foods too—with a lactaid, that is!
Your story brings me back to my memories with my cousin in India. Just like you, we craved a midnight snack; but, instead of a comforting bowl of mac n’ cheese, we sought bright red, fiery hot cheesy ramen. We are known as partners in crime, so our parents were well aware of our midnight escapades. Yet, we would still tip-toe down the steps, wincing at every accentuated sound. Why? The true obstacle was my cousin’s little brother. If he found out about our nighttime noodles, we would have to share our sacred ritual. So, with hushed giggles and stomachs growling, we would tip-toe back upstairs and devour our snack while our favorite show played.
Hi Raie! Your blog was so descriptive; it made me feel like I was with you on your mission to go to the kitchen and cook mac and cheese. I love how you created a tense atmosphere using shorter sentences. Reading through your blog, I definitely relate to how creaky the floorboards are. My parents always go to sleep pretty early, or at least earlier than me, so every time I try to go to sleep, I have to take super light steps and hope I don’t step on the creaky floorboards. Sneaking downstairs to make a late night snack sounds so good, and I want to try it one day. I also loved how you were so specific about the date you started saving the mac and cheese, though the fact that it was a year old was kind of concerning. Your descriptions and picture of the mac and cheese made it sound really yummy, and it made me crave mac and cheese. Maybe I’ll eat it this weekend instead of the other terrible options at my volunteering place. Being lactose intolerant sounds hard because a lot of the things I like eating include dairy products, but I’m glad you had a way to soothe your stomach after eating the mac and cheese. I love your style of writing!
ReplyDeleteHi Raie! I love your style of writing! You incorporate your own voice to make this adventure to your kitchen humorously dramatic. I can almost imagine the silence in your house and the adrenaline rush as you sneak into the kitchen because of your amazing description!
ReplyDeleteHaving creaky floors is the worst thing ever especially when you are not supposed to be awake, trust me I understand. I also understand the type of fear that gets my heart pumping when there is a possibility that I might wake up my parents. Playing Roblox helps you get better at not waking anyone up because you can strategize how to move and when to move, but it unfortunately cannot reincarnate the experience of late nights when you are having midnight cravings (someone should definitely make a game like that).
I know many people who are lactose intolerant. And just like you, every single one of them absolutely LOVES dairy, more than any average person. I just don’t get it. It seems like a curse to love cheese but not be able to actually digest it without a pill. Is it the “chase” that makes lactose intolerant people like cheese so much? I’ve always wondered that.
Hi Raie! What a very unique style of writing! This felt like reading a horror story but with much more whimsy! The short sentences give much more character than the longer ones I chose in my blog. The italicized onomatopoeias and the part of yourself saying "I Am Cooked" was by far my favorite.
ReplyDeleteAlthough I do have to wonder how loud is your stove? I see in the image that you are cooking the m&c so isn't that risking waking your parents up? Everything seems much louder at night especially when you are trying to prevent sounds from happening so is your stove special or something? Is this a perk of have an electric stove that I don't know about?
One last thing I liked about the blog was what you choose to emphasize. You found all the right details one would focus on in that exact scenario to make it relatable. The amount of times I said "oh my god yes" in my head reached double digits. Although that one part with the black text next to the grey ones really surprised and destroyed my eyes as my lights just broke.
Hi Raie! I had an absolute blast reading this. You took a simple late night craving into a sort of horror story capturing all of the right components. You pacing is fantastic-- breaking up lines like "Tread. With. Absolute" Built up to right amount of suspense. I love how there is also a lot of humor added, it really balances out with the thrill. Altogether you took something like being lactose intolerant to very creative format.
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