Foodie Syndrome

"I believe that your poor-" "Nachos!" "...cousin has caught a-" "Mozzarella, you ignorant fools!" "-very rare disease-" "Kimchi! Creme Brulee!" "-a very severe case-" "Onigiri! Roti! Pad Thai!" "-of constantly spouting international foods. Uncurable, I believe, unfortunately."

“She’s hopeless,” the doctor said, scribbling idly in his journal. My ornery cousin, once again irate, jumped out of her chair. “You, Dr. Fettuccini, are a first rate Tikka Masala,” she exclaimed. “You should be disbarred for gross Chicken Parm negligence! I will see myself out.”

Our family teaches their children to read exclusively with restaurant delivery menus. No story books, no Sesame Street, just Joe’s Pizza and Golden Dragon. It causes some bloomin’ onion problems for us.

The kids often anthropomorphize food, leading to embarrassing scenes at dinner parties, wherein the kids enact complex storylines with broccoli florets battling each other from behind mounds of mashed potatoes fashioned into trenches.

The parents didn't find this TOO too troubling. It wasn't until they got a call from Mrs. Doyle, the principal of their school. Apparently, using a chicken nugget as ammo for a catapult of carrots was grounds for serious disciplinary action. Suspension even!

The parent freaked out after they got a call from the principal.

If the authorities get involved this time, and there was no doubt that they would, it was inevitable that this would be the beginning of the end for them all.

It would be a lie to say that there weren't times they had wished it all to be over--but not like this. No, they wanted it to be ended on their own terms. The authorities needed to be distracted for as long as possible. And so yeah. That's why we opened this here donut shop.