Chipotle just started making queso. I love queso so I bought some yesterday, along with some tacos. I was disappointed at the size of the container. It was so small. When I got home, my family, not very saavy from a culinary perspective, eyed it suspiciously. I played it cool-no sudden moves. I busied myself getting plates out of the cupboard for the tacos.
littleb was the first to speak. “What is that” he asked, wagging his finger at the queso.
“Oh, that?”, I said, nonchalantly. “Nothing-just dip for the chips. Or sauce for the tacos.” I was careful to omit the word “Cheese” from my description. littleb loves cheese. I opened the queso and dipped a chip. I handed it to him. “Try it”. Nothing like a little reverse psychology to send the young ones running.
littleb took a step back. “What are those colored things in there?”
“Peppers”, I said. He doesn’t like peppers.
“Is it spicy?”
“Might be a little. Here. Just try a bite”, I held it out to him again.
“Okay. Suit yourself.” I turned away to hide my pleasure. No one could say I didn’t try. I might be an evil genius.
BigB wandered out. “What did you say that was?” BigB is a facts guy. He doesn’t need flowery prose. I keep things simple for BigB.
“Queso” I said, holding my breath. Would he ask what ‘queso’ meant? He took 8 years of Spanish in school. Did he remember the word “queso” the same way he unfortunately remembered all the words to “Feliz Navidad”?
He stared at it. He had that expression in his eyes. The one that means wheels are turning. He was trying to remember. Any minute now, I knew, the file in his brain marked “Spanish, Grade 7, Lesson 24, October 17, 1972”, would download, and he’d be on to me. Oh no, do something . Distract! Distract!
I stepped between him and the queso, blocking his view. “Hey, BigB”, I said, slipping my arms around his waist. “We should go to Home Depot tomorrow to look at cordless drills.”
“You hate Home Depot”, he pointed out, eyes narrowed.
Oops. I’d overplayed my hand. “But I love you, BigB”, I said, flirtatiously. “Here. Have a taco”. He smiled. Food and romance all at the same time. It was too much, even for his gigantic brain. He’d forgotten all about Spanish, Grade 7, Lesson 24. Queso? What queso? Crisis averted.
I smiled back, relief flooding my body. I was close. So close. BigB walked towards his office. My hand reached for the queso. He turned back. I yanked my hand to my side.
“What time is good for you tomorrow? Maybe around 1?”
“Good for what?” I asked, puzzled. Hungry. Voracious.
“Home Depot, Silly”, he said, turning back towards his office.
“Enjoy your cheese sauce”
Well played, BigB. Well played.