Joey took a one-day Home Economics class in grade six. The class was all boys. And on the same day the boys were learning how to cook with Mrs. Stanley, the girls were working in the carpentry shop with Mr. Hunter, making things out of wood.
After Mrs. Stanley gave the boys a tour of the kitchen, she handed out little cards with assignments on them. Joey’s friend Casey was the first to receive his. His card read ‘tomato sandwich’.
There was panic on everybody’s faces. A tomato sandwich? Oh, man. They were told the assignments were going to be easy, but a tomato sandwich? Oh, poor Casey.
When Mrs. Stanley gave Joey a card, he took a deep breath before turning it over. Toast with cinnamon spread. His heart sank. He knew there was no way in hell he could ever do this assignment.
“Mrs. Stanley,” he said. “Toast with cinnamon spread is impossible to make.”
“Oh, rubbish. You know where the toaster is. The bread is in the box over there and the cinnamon spread is in a jar in the cupboard up there.”
“Sorry, ma’am. But did you just say the cinnamon spread comes in a jar? I don’t have to make it from scratch?”
Mrs. Stanley rolled her eyes and touched the cross hanging around her neck.
“Well, then,” he said, smiling. “This is going to be easy.”
At the kitchen island, Joey laid out everything he would need to complete his assignment. One piece of bread, a jar of cinnamon spread, and a bread knife. He was proud of himself. He felt organized and prepared, confident and poised. So sure he was of himself that he imagined Mrs. Stanley holding up his cinnamon toast in front of the class and declaring it the most amazing recipe she had ever laid eyes on. And then after taking a bite, her eyes would become slightly unfocused, her lips would pout as she exaggerated her chewing motions, and she would cry, “Oh my God. This is absolutely delicious!”
Once Joey got going on his recipe, things went rather smoothly. When he was finished, he had one open-faced piece of cinnamon toast. But how to display it? Should he cut it diagonally? Or through the middle? He would have asked Mrs. Stanley, but she was yelling at Bobby for licking ketchup off his bread knife. In the end, Joey decided not to cut it at all.
When the time came to display their work for grading, Mrs. Stanley asked, “Who wants to be first?”
Joey’s hand shot up, not too quickly he hoped. He didn’t want to seem too willing.
“Ah, Joey. Let’s see what you have prepared for us today.” She held up his plate for everyone to see, and he beamed. This was to be his moment of glory. After class, he would run home with his A+, prepare a feast of steak and potatoes for his mother and delicately place the paper with his grade on it inside her silk napkin. His fear of Home Economics had been unfounded. Cooking was fun, especially when you were good at it like he was.
“I wouldn’t feed this to a dog,” said Mrs. Stanley. “First, there are crumbs all over the plate. It should be clear of crumbs. Second, you didn’t cut the toast. Nobody serves toast that hasn’t been cut in half. But worst of all, Joey, you did not spread your cinnamon butter all the way to the outer edges of the toast. It’s all gooped up here in the middle like a wad of Silly Putty. I’m afraid, Joey, that I’m going to have to give you an F. In good conscience, I cannot give you a passing grade for this mess.”
Joey looked away and dropped his head. She hadn’t even tasted it.
He cheered up a bit later, though, when he saw that Mrs. Stanley was failing everyone in the class.
Nobody was surprised later to find out that all of the girls had passed their shop class. Joey’s friend Shelley showed him the wooden bowl she had made. It was beautiful and she was squealing with delight over it. “I can’t believe how much fun shop is. I used a jigsaw for the general shape, and then used a gouge to carve out the middle, and then sanded the outside with the electric sander, and then used a piece of sandpaper to clean out the middle. It was an amazing experience! I can’t wait to show my mother. How was Home Ec?”
“I had to make toast with cinnamon spread. It was impossible.”
“Toast with cinnamon spread? That is so easy! Mrs. Stanley must have been extra nice today.”