Okay, first things first. We’ve got to set this straight. I know you made a bigger cracker than your usual Wheat Thin. In fact, it’s even bigger than the “BIG!” one that you make. But that does not make it a flatbread. Okay. Now.
I bought you, Wheat Thins “Flatbreads,” because I realized that I’d purchased cheeses for various recipes that were unlikely to be used often enough to not get moldy and disgusting in our fridge. Crackers seemed to be a logical solution to this. Lunchtime and I don’t have any food? Cheese and crackers! Too close to dinner for a snack? Have a cracker with some cheese on it to hold you over! Seemed like a good idea.
You, however, have your own ideas.
You just seem totally not okay with the idea of my just putting some cheese on you! You’re offering me these hyper-specific serving suggestions. “Really, crackers?” I said to you, disappointed. “Have we come to a point where people don’t know what to do with you? Can’t make up their own damn minds?” I sighed and put you down, wondering where the hell I could get a tomato to put on my crackers, since clearly I don’t have a cho–
Wait, so now you’re saying I do have a choice? I can put whatever I want on these crackers? AWESOME! Thanks, Wheat Thins!
But here’s the issue: This box of fucking crackers is giving me permission to put whatever I damn well please on them. I don’t need permission from a box of crackers, Wheat Thins. And if we start listening to boxes of crackers, where, as a society, will we be? I’d rather not listen to my box of crackers. This leaves me with very few alternatives:
- Eat my crackers with no topping (unacceptable)
- Don’t enjoy the crackers
Well, okay, really only one option since the first’s unacceptable. So, okay, Wheat Thins. You got me. I won’t enjoy these crackers. I will take them out of the box and cover them with blue cheese and the garlic scape pesto that I got at the farmer’s market and I will fucking hate every minute of it. Maybe I’ll try to fix that hatred by changing it up a little. Maybe I’ll use a little guacamole instead of the pesto, or substitute some sharp cheddar. Or both. And I’ll still hate it, because the whole time I’ll know that if I don’t, I’m doing exactly what the box is telling me to. Even if I switch it up to the super-sharp cheddar or get rid of one of the toppings entirely, I’m still stuck.
I have no options. Wheat thins, you’ve forced me to hate you before I even open the box. I can barely even type your name. “What Things,” that’s what I’m getting. What things? Wheat thins.
I bet you’d have been delicious, too.