Canadian Beef? Again?

Helene was cooking dinner. She was stirring noodles into a big pot.

“What are we having?” I asked.

“Kraft Dinner,” she replied.

“What? Are you crazy?” I said. “Why spend all that money on Kraft Dinner when we can only afford Canadian beef? We’re not rich, you know.”

Madison, who was sitting in the next room, heard us talking. “Aw, dad,” he said. “We’ve had steak for supper every night for the past two weeks. Plus, we have steak and eggs every day for breakfast and steak sandwiches for lunch. We even had steak popcorn when we watched a movie last night. Why can’t we have Kraft Dinner tonight – or maybe even wieners and beans? I’m getting steaked out.”

“Well, maybe someday we’ll win the lottery,” I said. “But for right now we can only afford Canadian beef. That’s just the way it is.”

Sadie, who had also heard us talking, looked at her brother and chimed in. “Remember the good old days when I was little and beef was expensive?”

“You’re still little,” I pointed out.

“I wish beef was still expensive,” Madison said. “I’m tired of eating it all the time.”

“But you like steak,” I reminded him.

He shrugged. “I used to,” he said. “But that was before Mad Cow showed up in that one cow in Alberta and before you started forcing it on me all the time.”

“It’s protein,” I said. “You need protein. It’s good for you. Plus, by eating Canadian beef you’re helping all the farmers who raise Canadian cattle.”

Helene put her pot of noodles on the stove and turned the element knob to “hot”. “Well, I thought I’d treat us to some Kraft Dinner anyway,” she said. “It’s not as though we eat it all the time and the kids are right. We’ve been eating Canadian beef nonstop for a while now. A little treat this one time isn’t going to break the weekly budget.”

“Well OK, but just to be safe I’ll call the bank to see if they can wait an extra week for next the mortgage payment,” I said.

Madison said, “I hope the price of Canadian beef recovers before I go to college. One of my friends is going away to college this year and his parents bought him a freezer and a big side of beef. That’s all he’s gonna eat during the school year. His parents say it’s all they can afford.”

I nodded. “Tuition is very expensive,” I said. “And anyway, he’s lucky. Back when I was a student we had to eat Kraft Dinner every day. You kids today don’t know how good you’ve got it.”

“You had Kraft Dinner every day?” Sadie asked, excitedly. “Were you rich?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Back then things were the opposite of what they are now. Kraft Dinner was cheaper than steak. Kraft Dinner was all I could afford.”

“I wish,” Madison said, his voice full of disappointment.

“Back then steak was a special treat,” I said. Both of the kids frowned and shivered like they’d swallowed something sour when I said this.

The pot of noodles on the stove finished cooking. Helene ripped open the little packet of powdered cheese – careful not to spill any of the expensive orange crystals on the floor – and dumped it into the pot of noodles and mixed it up with a big wooden spoon. The kids licked their lips in anticipation.