When I was young, I loved to drop a few spoonfuls of Nestle Quick into a glass of milk, stir, and sip. Buoyant pods of powdered chocolate inevitably remained intact, bobbing to the surface, swirling in the milky whirlpool created from my steady stirring.As I lifted the glass to sip, I would lower and raise the glass, swishing the milk backwards and forwards, trying to coax those cocoa-pods front and center so I could suck them in and with my tongue, press them against the roof of my mouth, releasing a burst of cocoa-flavored sweetness that would dissolve into that swishy sip of milk.
In winter, I did the same with hot cocoa mix. I’d heat water in the kettle, spoon cocoa mix into the mug, and then stir, keeping an eye open for the unmixed cocoa blobs. When mixing chocolate milk, I could easily see the dark against white; in a mug, I found it harder to spot unmixed cocoa under the creamy film that formed at the water’s surface. No matter; I’d trust my tongue to feel for them. I loved the sugary sensation as the cocoa separated into granules and dissolved in my mouth.
One cool afternoon I pulled out one of my favorite black mugs, poured in a packet of hot cocoa mix and waited for the water to boil. I pulled out a spoon and spun it between my fingers, waiting. As soon as the kettle burbled, I lifted and poured. Absently, I stirred and watched it blend, anticipating my ritual of hunting down undissolved pockets of cocoa floating to the surface.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, I lifted the mug to my lips, blowing a little to cool the surface, and began sipping. Several sips in, I spotted a blob and sloshed the liquid, working that tempting pod front and center, to suck in and press against the roof of my mouth.
As soon as it was within sipping distance, I tilted the mug, drank it in, and with my tongue pressed up. But it didn’t give when it hit the roof of my mouth. It didn’t dissolve into a hundred granules of sugar. It was…hairy.
I rushed to the sink and spat.
A fly.
A dead fly.
I dumped the contents of the mug into the sink, pushed the faucet and scooped water into my mouth with my hands as fast as possible to rinse, and rinse, and rinse, and rinse. As I rinsed, I had to stare down into the sink where the fly rested against the stainless steel drain basket strainer, the stream of water rinsing specks of cocoa from his lifeless black form.
I started to cry.
To this day, I can still recall the unexpected sensation of hair…legs…wings.
To this day, I always press the curve of my spoon against every pocket of unmixed cocoa, running it against the side of the glass or mug, to ensure that it bursts and blends with the liquid.
To this day, I avoid dark mugs. But if I don’t have a choice, I always peer in, turn the mug upside down, and shake.
An elaborate memory. Everything about it felt familiar until the hairy bit. I love it.
I do miss the pre-fly cocoa sensation, but I will not risk it. Nope. Never again…never again.
Glad it wasn’t a yellow jacket or you would have to add a bee sting to the memory!
Good point! We have so many of those in late summer, it’s almost a rite of passage for a kid to sip pop at a picnic and encounter that sting! Ouch!
Interesting enough, Cheryl, Scott actually DID have a bee in his drink when we were on the beach in Mexico two years ago! The drink was yellowish in color, and it had a bee-themed named, so when he discovered the bee floating in his drink, he thought it was supposed to be there. The waiter sheepishly informed us that the bee was NOT supposed to be in his drink. 🙂
Oh, when I was a kid, I sometimes ate the cocoa mix straight! “Nido” brand dried whole-milk is pretty yummy, too. (Weird, I know.)
You know, my favorite mug is black…
I had a similar experience in high school involving someone’s old Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups bought on clearance, and…maggots. I did more than just spit. ~shiver at the memory~
Oh, Monica, you just brought to mind a similar memory–I bought a Mr. Goodbar from an old vending machine in the local armory where my parents were bidding on items at an auction. I bit into it–like your Reese’s Peanut Butter cup, it was teeming with maggots. I spit it out into the trash can, horrified. Can you eat peanut butter cups without thinking about it? I can’t eat Mr. Goodbars without thinking about it. I can’t even look at one at the checkout counter.
Oh, Ann, this literally made me want to gag. I am so sorry! It also brought back memories of the day I felt something in my mouth so I bit down on it. It filled my mouth with a bitter, acrid taste, so I spit it out on the ground and saw…three little pieces of what I can only assume was once an intact ant. A very large ant. So, we are sisters in this way!
A huge ant! Oh, I’m so sorry you actually bit and tasted it! I’m so glad I didn’t bite down on the fly.
I’m bringing back all of these horrifying memories for people–I hope that we can all fix something scrumptious tonight for dinner to make up for it!
So, it probably wouldn’t help you to know that every year at Purdue’s Spring Fest, the entomology department cooks up tasty dishes containing edible bugs…. 😉
Oh, yeah, I’ve heard about that. Well, maybe it’s different if you know what you’re about to bit into? Part of my shock was thinking I was about to taste a delectable burst of cocoa only to encounter the hairy fly. If I KNEW I was about to eat a chocolate-y fly, maybe….
nope. I still wouldn’t do it.
But my 14yo daughter would, I’ll bet. She’s the one who said I should go ahead and publish this story.
It might do your heart good to know they didn’t use flies. You never know where a fly has been! 😉
Mealworm stirfry isn’t bad. Really. Nutty-flavored and chock-full of protein! Haha!
Brandon was eating Oreos only to discover they were infested with tiny black ants! He had eaten at least 5 of them before he noticed.
Noooooooo! Not the Oreos?!
I’m going to throw away all of my dark mugs the instant I get home. what a tragic story!
They need not be banned; certainly look closely and perhaps rinse them out before use.
I thought the same thing, Jess! Ann … It’s a good thing our Laity Lodge mugs are light-colored, or I’d be in depression right now!
What about your New Albany friends from high school years who ate grasshoppers to gross out their track competition???
Oh, yes! I forgot about that!
Ann,
I loved your story, but I didn’t love the anguish you went through. Although, in some cultures,chocolate-covered flies are a delicacy, I’m sure.
It’s funny how we have the same experiences and view them totally different. That’s conditioning, I guess.
Thanks for sharing the memory. I don’t like dark cups either.
Gus
Good point–someone else could have the same kind of experience and write a completely different story. I’m not sure flies would be a delicacy, but maybe maggots. Somewhere….
Ew, ew, ew.
I remember eating Nestle’s Quick by the spoonful, sliding spoon past wetted lips, taking just a little at a time, pressing it to roof of mouth, dissolving it with tongue, and repeating.
Now I just slurp Hershey’s chocolate in a pinch.
Hershey’s syrup should be safe, I’d think, tucked away in the fridge away from insects. Clever solution. 🙂
Oh what a sweet and equally awful story! I could not help it but I laughed out loud at your calamity. I know it wasn’t funny at the time, and I am glad you now look in side the cup before pouring in the coco mix.
Mostly I laughed because my daughter recently did a post where she was running to get to church on time for a quiz contest, and almost swallowed a fly. Almost vomiting she gagged and after a while gained her composure. Needless to say she was not in a good mood to enter the contest at church once she arrived.
Isn’t there some song about a lady who swallowed a fly? I’ve ridden my bike and swallowed gnats before. A fly, though? That’s sizable…and disturbing.
Even though it made me queasy and my mouth still has a most marked down downturned look, I LOVED this story. Beautifully told and building suspense even. SO sorry you had a fly in your mouth and that hot cocoa mix has been permanently ruined for you (at least the lump against the top of your mouth part!). Also sad that you can’t look Mr. Goodbar in the eye – cause that’s one good candy bar. Been years, but I do remember snitching those and Snickers from my kids’ Halloween stashes.
Diana, you make me laugh! I will admit to eating a Mr. Goodbar several times since childhood….but I did so carefully, with pauses for close inspection.
Oh, when Life doesn’t give us what we expect. Yet we still drink. More carefully from then on.
Love this, Megan!
The beautiful things in our life will at some point, disappoint. A friend will be selfish. A love will act loveless. The cocoa will have an insect. But still, we drink, hoping to find that joy once again
David! That’s so insightful, so poignant. You took my goofy fly story and turned it into something beautiful.
You and Megan can see beyond the obvious.
I’m glad you at least will still drink cocoa, even if the experience is somewhat altered! What a fun story. I’m wondering what brought this up? A similar situation now? And I love the new background.
I have always refused to drink out of mugs that are dark colored inside. I want to see my drink. Now I have good rationale for my quirk. 🙂
Yikes!!
Years ago we spent a weekend with friends who are cola drinkers. In the morning I asked if they had any coffee. No, but they found some tea in a cupboard. As the hostess put the kettle on, she said, “There are some mugs hanging under the cabinet over there.” I chose one and sleepily put the teabag into it. When I poured in the boiling water, I watched dust bunnies and a dead spider float to the surface! Being people who don’t drink hot drinks to wake up every day, they hadn’t used some of their mugs in months and hadn’t thought to clean them! We have stayed at their house several times since and never forgotten to rinse mugs before use.
Sometimes I just take a dry powder packet and eat without mixing. I have never found a dead fly in it, but whatever. It was nestle? I use swiss miss. I love it, haha.
I’ve never done that, but I’ll bet I’d love it. And as long as the Swiss Miss/Nestle factory keeps flies out, we’d be okay! Might be even more safe and reliable than tapping on my dark mugs.