The Chef Boy Ar Dee Incident

By Zach Galligan on 05/27/2008

In order to make sense of this story, you need to know a few things.

First of all, my wife likes to shop for shoes. Often. Usually she exercises restraint, but every now and then, given the time, money and inclination, she can make Imelda Marcos seem like a rank amateur. So, when I happened to have a little cash lying around - maybe a couple hundred bucks - I would slip it in an envelope and put it in the cutlery drawer, just in case she or I needed a few dollars.

Soon, however, I began to notice that the money was disappearing more quickly than usual, and the number of shoes belonging to my spouse began to increase exponentially. Realizing that drastic action was necessary, I took whatever cash was remaining from my pilfered funds and began to store it in a single white sock in my sock drawer. This seemed to ameliorate what was threatening to become a precarious situation.

On to the second item, which will initially seem to be unrelated, but will eventually become quite crucial to our story. I often stay at my sister's house on Eastern Long Island, sometimes without my wife, who remains in Manhattan studying for her business school finals. One weekend, while I was buying lunch at the local deli, my eyes fixed upon a warmly familiar object: a can of Chef Boy Ar Dee Overstuffed Ravioli. Although some people find canned ravioli repellent, I, on the other hand, experience it as edible nostalgia. Without hesitation, I bought a can.

Which brings us to the final piece of crucial information: my wife, quite rightly, tries to improve my diet, and will sometimes question my caloric decisions. So, after being unable to find the time to consume the ravioli, I returned home from Long Island with the contraband pasta packed discreetly in my carry on bag. The question, then, was where to hide it from the disapproving eyes of my spouse until I could find a quiet moment in which to devour it. Since my cash supply had showed indications of stability, I chose what I felt was clearly the safest place: namely, the sock drawer.

Little did I know, however, that my wife's shoe cravings had reached a fever pitch, and the very next day, she began to search - subtly at first, then with increased agitation - the entire apartment, zeroing in with uncanny accuracy upon the sock drawer. It was there that she discovered, to her complete bewilderment, a can of ravioli. Since I had already left for work, she made a mental note to quiz me about this bizarre development, went off to school, and promptly forgot about it. The very next day, not having to work, I fired up the entire can and ate it heartily, being careful to stash the remaining evidence securely in the trash.. A few hours later, my wife returned home, and suddenly recalling her discovery, questioned me. The conversation went something like this:

Wife: Honey, why is there a can of ravioli in the sock drawer?

Me: Excuse me?

Wife: There is a can of Chef Boy Ar Dee Overstuffed Ravioli in the sock drawer!

Me: (feigning ignorance) What in God's name are you talking about?

Wife: Look! (She opens drawer, finds nothing) It was right here! I swear!

Me: Seriously, honey, are you feeling ok?

Wife: I swear to God, it was there! I even tried to unscrew it!

Me: (baffled) What, the can? Why did you do that?

Wife: Because I thought it was one of those fake cans, y'know, that you can hide things in!

Me: Like you get from a novelty store?

Wife: Exactly!

Me: But what did you think I was hiding?

Wife: The money I wanted to BUY SHOES!

Me: AHA!!! Now we're getting somewhere!

(The two of us are now laughing so hard that we're crying)

Wife: So what happened to the ravioli?

Me: What ravioli would that be?

Wife: Honey!!!

Me: I ate it, OK!??? I ate it all up,every last bit, mmm, yummy, yummy ravioli!! Woo Hoo!

This is now referred to as the Chef Boy Ar Dee Incident, and most of our close friends are aware of it. I initially wrote this post thinking that this story would shed light on relationships, communication between spouses, and the secrets that we hide from our loved ones, but now that I've written it, what it truly demonstrates is this:

Chef Boy Ar Dee - still rock solid after all these years!