Anyway, that's not the weirdest part. The weirdest part is that I've been thinking about hot dogs a lot lately*. I've even told stories about hot dogs*. In fact, I even have more hot dog related stories in reserve that I haven't had a chance to tell*.
So, onto the first installment of Heather vs Hotdogs*.
When I was a kid, I can recall watching my mom grate cheese for dinner one night. I was young, maybe 4 years old. I was mesmerized by it - it looked like so much fun and it produced a tasty treat. I wanted to try it, I wanted to help; my mom wouldn't let me because she was afraid I'd grate myself. Understandably, I was left to observe.
Another day, who knows how long after, I was sitting in the living room watching TV. It was one of those old wooden ones with a built-in speaker and everything. One day for lunch, Granny gave me a hot dog.
A raw hot dog. I can't recall if it was intended to tide me over until she could give me something else, or if she actually gave me a raw hot dog for lunch. We all know that, texturally, raw hot dogs are gross and we also know that if anything about food is going to throw me off, it's texture.
I may or may not have been too happy about having to eat the thing. That's about the time I noticed the speaker on the TV.
It looked an awful lot like a certain kitchen appliance that I'd seen my mom use. A certain kitchen appliance that I was not allowed to use because I'd hurt myself. I looked at the speaker. I looked at my hot dog.
I started grating. I grated a good portion of hot dog into the TV before I got caught.
I don't remember what happened next. I probably got sent to my room without real lunch. I may or may not have been spanked. But I'm 100% certain Granny had a hard time keeping a straight face on that one.
Big thanks to EliseArt for providing illustrations.