Through nearly every phase of my life, comic books and superheroes have been a source of entertainment, enlightenment, and inspiration. Yet there’s a real-life superhero that has had my back through it all — one that has gone heretofore unrecognized. Whether in my youth, venturing out on my own, or settling into domesticated bliss, this unsung hero has never failed to protect, comfort, and heal. All while swathed in soothing shades of pink.
I’m of course talking about Pepto-Bismol.
Or as I like to call it…
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
GROWING UP PEPTO
My mom learned to cook in the 50s and early 60s, thus the gastronomy of my childhood was heavily influenced by “casserole culture.” Our meals regularly included three staples: velvety bricks of cheese product, a miraculously whipped sandwich spread, and various canned, creamed soups.
Luckily, Captain Pepto was always nearby in his Fortress of Soothitude (AKA the fridge), to bring peace to my tumultuous tummy.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
LEARNING TO PINK FOR MYSELF
As I went off to college and into the workforce, I learned to fend for myself. As with many a newly independent spirit, this meant reams of ramen, heaps of helpful hamburger, and piles upon piles of pizza — all of which left me in the depths of diarrheic despair.
Yet with every ounce of knowledge or life experience (or me) that I gained, I never doubted my powerful pink ally would rescue me from my less-than-savory self-sufficiency.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
LOVE IS A MANY-MANGIA’D THING
In the process of finding myself, I also found my better half — an Italian with a penchant for the life-affirming cuisine of his heritage. Spices to incite the senses; meatballs as flavorful as they are dense; and lasagna… gooey, cheesy, meaty lasagna — mountainous layers of mouth-watering ecstasy — these were all now a part of me… and my midsection.
But in sickness and in health, through thick and (very little) thin, The Captain was there — unfailingly available as counselor and companion, assuring a peaceful, pink-hued coexistence.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
BOUNCING BABY BISMOL
And as our lives grew, we grew into a family. A son brought us new joys, new adventures, and an unending supply of uneaten scraps. PBJ halves, lone chicken nuggets, and bits of tepid fish stick have oft-served as an amuse-bouche between his meal and ours.
Nonetheless, without fail, Cap came through, offering consistency in the midst of this child-induced, culinary chaos.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
LET IT FLOW! LET IT FLOW! LET IT FLOW!
So during this season of reminiscing, resolving, and excessive celebrating (and all that entails for my entrails), I look with gratitude at my life and upon all that I have feasted. I raise a glass plastic cup to the perpetually courageous Captain Pepto:
To friendship; to contentment; to peaceful, pink relief…
…to the kitchen for leftover ham and peppermint fudge!
Happy New Year!
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I partnered with Pepto-Bismol for this tribute, to whom I owe a lifetime of #PinkRelief. However, all opinions, stories, and food-related fiascos are mine. Be sure and check Pepto out on Facebook and Twitter.
…and while you’re there, be sure and check me out, too! • DD on Facebook • DD on Twitter