I have a lot to be thankful for. I have a lovely wife and three wonderful children. I live in a nice house in a beautiful neighborhood. Plus, I have a can of Mr. Squid baked cuttlefish chips.
My younger brother sent me the can of the squid-based snack as a present. He said I probably had trouble finding squid chips in Ohio, where I live. He picked out the Mr. Squid brand because, as it says on the can, they're “spicy, crispy and fun.” (Mr. Squid is a product of Thailand, so don't go looking for Nacho Squid Doritos on your grocer's shelves.)
At first, I had my doubts. I searched the Internet to see if squid chips were a genuine product. (I wouldn't want to be fooled with cheap, imitation cuttlefish.) I quickly found two pieces of information that turned my stomach. 1. Contaminated cuttlefish chips spread food poisoning throughout Japan. 2. Squid chips come up when you search for the term, “worst chips ever.” The advice on one Web site said that squid chips smell much worse than they taste and to hold your nose when you eat them. As a rule, I try to avoid foods that force me to hold my nose.
The chips, however, were a gift, which brought me to a dilemma — how to write the thank-you note for such a thoughtful present.
Once when my older brother was in college and I was still in high school, I sent him some home cooking. It wasn't chocolate chip cookies — it was meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy poured into a shoebox and mailed fourth class so it could age on the way. He showed extremely bad manners by never writing a thank-you note. I didn't want to be accused of the same thing, so I put pen to paper.
My dearest brother,
Mother taught us the importance of thank-you notes. She etched the three-part format onto our young minds: 1. thank the giver, 2. name the gift and 3. tell the giver how much you're enjoying the gift. This foolproof format worked well for every present I ever received as a kid — “Thank you, grandma, for the new baseball glove. I played catch with it all afternoon and didn't drop a single throw.” Two sentences and my obligation was discharged. But now I've received your present.
Beginning is easy. Thank you for the can of spicy, crispy and fun Mr. Squid baked cuttlefish chips. There, I've accomplished the first two steps. Please forgive me if I falter on step number three, as words cannot express my enjoyment.
I was waiting until I finished the can of Mr. Squid before writing to thank you but now I realize that I will never finish it. In fact, I can't force myself to eat a single chip. Like a good father, I made the kids try the chips first. Paul spit his halfway across the room. Maria ran screaming from the house.
I brought the can of Mr. Squid to work and put it next to the doughnuts and coffee. Only one co-worker sampled the chips and she still has the taste in her mouth. That was from three weeks ago. We had to have the office fumigated to remove the squid smell.
Nevertheless, I am confident that my joy from Mr. Squid will reach new heights when you open your birthday present from me next fall. As the saying goes, there is more joy in giving Mr. Squid than in receiving.
Your loving brother.
Like I said, I have a lot to be thankful for.
(Tim Bete is married with three children. He has nine combined years as a dad – 63 in dog years – which makes him an expert at answering the questions, “Are we there yet?” and “Why?” To subscribe to Tim's column or read more of his work, visit his website at www.timbete.com.)
