Presentation is key, but it's all going the same place

 This morning I made a beautiful bowl of oatmeal. I started by boiling hot water with a dash of cinnamon and sugar. After I cooked the oatmeal I added chopped pecans liberally, a placed raisins at the center and sprinkled 12 blueberries around the peripheral. As I calmly scoop each spoonful, and though about my thesis on food insecurity. This mixture is the same Dunkin Donuts packages to sell for almost $5.  I thought how my bowl looks just like that random bowl of oatmeal I brought from that overpriced cafe. It's so pretty.

Then I remember my dad's words: presentation is everything. "You can't just give people a sloppy plate." "Would you feed Darcy like this? I don't you're ready for a husband" Through our bantering I knew he was aware of the guys I liked. His teasing let me know what he thought of each one and of me dating.  "Do you think Bernie would eat this, maybe he is greedy." Then he would come into the kitchen. He would bring his plate and make proceed to make mines. (We always served my dad first.) He would carefully position the entree and sides. Later he would open the fridge and find a random spring of parsley or cilantro to drop on top. He then would ask me to sit, and say "mademoiselle, vous etes servi." Young lady, you are served.

We would laugh. Weeks later I began to really design his plate. He would call "stop playing with my food, just bring it" or my favorite "Don't do too much, it's all going the same place." I remember all this and laugh now.  I miss  my father, but we are all going the same place.