We were talking with friends Nick and Janet at dinner, discussing the economy and possible money-saving strategies for food items. Husband, who views himself as quite the mountain man, took that opportune moment to do his Bear Grylls/Les Stroud gig, suggesting we could all simply live off the land.
"I've eaten wasp larvae!" he stated proudly, "And I found it to be very nutty"
I repressed the desire to say, "---And you are what you eat!"
"It was delicious!" he went on, "Sweet and quite satisfying."
Janet was looking across the table in undisguised horror, then quickly flicked her eyes at me as if to say, '---You married that?'
Undaunted by the uncomfortably squirming listener, Husband elaborated over things that could be devoured as emergency food. Not wanting to feel left out, I confided that once on a camping trip to impress my teenage sons,(and on a dare), I ate a winged ant. I mentioned how humorous it had been when the boys did it, and how each time they talked I could still see stray wispy ant legs on their tongues. And then I felt guilty. Not because of the winged ant's demise, but because I knew better than to talk about that sort of thing over a meal. Mother would not have been pleased.
At this point, Janet was absolutely recoiling in disgust, giving me a look that said, "I guess I've never really known you. This friendship just might not work out."
Nick amiably joined in, contributing several alternate food sources he knew of. Janet, now in her own little personal hell, turned around to view him as if he'd suddenly grown another head. It was abundantly clear she wanted the table topic to change.
When Husband went in for Round Two, once again revisiting the uniquely exquisite taste of wasp larvae, my friend Janet had heard enough. She took a deep, exasperated breath, glancing from one to the other of us and desperately blurted out, "Couldn't ya just....DIE?"
camel urine anytime soon.