Let me tell you a little something about mac and cheese.

The other day I made a joke about how I’m a pacifist in life, but violent as shit when it comes to making mac and cheese… you know, when all the florescent orange powder clumps together and you have to stab it repeatedly like you’re the villain in a low budget horror flick just to get it to mix in. It was not a particularly well thought out joke, just something that flew out of my brain and, subsequently, onto anyone near by because I have no filter.

The responses were about 50% “omg same” and 50% offers to give me a “real” mac and cheese recipe so my poor deprived children don’t have to eat that tragic orange powdered shit from Trader Joe’s anymore… which means the responses were 50% from people who live in the real world and 50% people who apparently live in some separate universe that I don’t understand.

First of all, I feel like it’s unnecessary to point out how nutritional void boxed mac and cheese is.

It doesn’t take a pediatric nutritionist to figure out that a $.77 meal from a box that I threw a handful (or three) of extra cheddar into isn’t the pinnacle of healthy eating… nobody in this world or the next has ever mistaken mac and cheese for healthy food. If I thought it was packed full of nutrients I wouldn’t throw broccoli in for my kids to begrudgingly pick around.

Secondly, I don’t need any fancyass mac and cheese recipes. I can tell you for damn sure that if I’m making boxed mac and cheese it’s because I’m too lazy to make anything better. If I was up to making some pinterest mac recipe that involves a roux then I just won’t make mac and cheese. I’ll make stirfry. Problem solved.

The alternative to mac and cheese (at least in my house) has never been “real food”.

If I’m making mac and cheese it’s because the alternative is handing my kids a jar of peanutbutter and a spoon and telling them to go the fuck to town on it… so how above a little praise for rising above that impulse.

So those are my late night rambling thoughts about that magical box of a meal-cop-out that we all know and love. That absurdly florescent meal that nobody’s kids bitch about. That failure of a dinner that has come to the rescue of parents everywhere who literally could not even by the time 5:30 rolled around. That horrifyingly judge worthy lazy person meal that we’re all a little ashamed to feed to our kids but even more ashamed to love ourselves.

Long live shitty mac and cheese. Sorry not sorry.

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