Suffering Is Good For One’s Writing…

Unless you’ve already written about that particular brand of suffering. Recently my mother invited us over for a pancake breakfast (I should’ve known better):

The “pancakes” tasted far worse than they look. It’s 2011 and my mother is currently avoiding carbs. Since she couldn’t find the special coconut flour required by the so-called pancake recipe, she ground her own coconut flakes into a gritty approximation of a flour-ish substance.


Usually, I’d be thinking, sure this is bad, but at least I’ll be able to write about it someday. Except I’ve already mocked my mother’s crazy diet fads in My Big Nose And Other Natural Disasters.

I suffered through that breakfast, knowing my only consolation would be an emailed photo to my brother stating simply: I miss tofu slabs with dill!

Oh, 1983…