Momma was Right

Remember all those things your mother told you as a kid? Do you also remember all the times you poo-pooed what your momma said, because it couldn’t possibly be good advice. You know you do.

When I was a kid, fruit cocktail was a treat for certain desserts. For some reason, there always seemed to be only one cherry per can, and my brother and I would scrap over who should have the cherry. I remember one evening when mom cut the “cherry,” really a tiny half sphere of who-knows-what dyed a deep and unnatural crimson, into two equal pieces to end the fighting.

My momma used to always give me heck for licking the lids off canned food. Fruit cocktail was a favorite, but I also licked the lids of other tasty dessert-type foods. She said, “You’re going to cut your tongue up!” I ignored her because I had been licking can lids for so long without incident that it seemed to be another one of those good looking young wives’ tales (I don’t dare call it an “old wives’ tale” out of fear for my life) akin to getting sick if I ate the black watermelon seeds.

Tonight, I really wanted something tasty for dinner. Truthfully, I wanted something deep fried, but I went to the cupboard instead to see if I could make a better choice. I found a can of Chef Boyardee ravioli, and figured it was a better choice than something bathed in hot oil and covered in salt. As much as I love to cook, there are some days where I just can’t bring myself to go through all the steps and make something from scratch for dinner.

Chef Boyardee is so technologically advanced now that a hungry person doesn’t even need a can opener to get at the tasty goodness inside. Wahoo! I popped and pulled up on the tab, and set my ravioli free into a bowl. Then I automatically licked the tomato-type sauce off the lid. That was the critical error.

The problem with the pop-tab cans is that lifting up and “popping” the tab presses a piece of the aluminum down toward the contents of the can. Then, when the unsuspecting hungry person, minding her own business and thinking about how gorgeous the Duchess of Cambridge looked on Friday, licks that lid on autopilot, that little bent piece of metal can cut a trench down the entire length of her tongue. Did I mention that the entire surface of that inner lid was coated in tangy tomato sauce? This salt in the wound feature may have been what induced me to shift to third person point of view for part of this paragraph.

As soon as I realized what happened, through the stinging and the remorse, I thought of my sweet little momma from days gone by in plastic framed glasses and the required 80s tight perm, warning me that this would happen. And then I thought, crud. Now I have to tell her, and the entire internet, apparently, that she was right.

Kids, listen to your mommas. Most of the time, they know what they’re talking about.

The next question is, what are the first aid procedures for a sliced tongue? Can I run cold water on it? I’m trying to figure out how to apply pressure. Perhaps I might go buy a slurpee. A slurpee may just be the way to go.

copyright 2011:

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