Food: A Wonderful Escape

When I was a kid my Great Uncle Albert told his wife Antoinette that he was going to the hardware store. Instead he got on a bus to Concord, NH. He lived in New York City.

I used to run away as a kid. I would go to Memorial Field and stretch out in the dugouts until I calmed down or it started to get dark. As an adult, I escape into the cabinets.

What a warm, welcoming place to dive into. There are salty snacks and sweet treats. Whatever my mood--savory, spicy, sour, or tangy--I can concoct a solution.

In my cabinets, there are no bosses, bills, or laundry. It's quiet. A calm refuge that opens to me like the tender, loving arms of a grandmother. Soft burritos with sour cream understand that he hurt my feelings, how hard I work, and all that I truly deserve.

The temptation is so great. When life gets tough: take a tub of Ben and Jerry's ice cream into the tub.

The reality is I'm lost. Just like when I am in the car, it's time to pull over, assess the situation, and plan a way out.

I don't need another raspberry scone. I need a walk, a bunny in my lap, a call to my mother, a ride on my bike, a relaxing CD, or a trip to an art gallery.

Running away into the cabinets offers only a brief reward. Eventually Great Aunt Antoinette is going to find you and ask where you are and what you have been doing. I can hear the phone ringing right now.