Frito Pie Retrospective

There is a picture of my dad and me laughing in front of a steep wall of rock. I keep this picture above my sink because it reminds me of Frito Pie, my dad, laughing, and torturing my poor mother.

We were driving somewhere that had mountains. Rocky, steep cliff on one side of the curvy road, long drop off on the other. It was summer and we were on vacation. Claire and I sat in the back of the rental car. Dad drove, mom rode shotgun. Claire and I would sleep, laugh, eat, and fight. Mom would yell and dad would eat Corn Nuts and sneeze really grossly. We'd all get uber dramatic and roll down the windows to let the sneeze out.

This particular ride was memorable not because of the Corn Nuts or the gagging but because we made our mother physically ill by mentioning Frito Pie. You see, the road was curvy and Dad had a lead foot. Mom was bordering vomiting and keeping it together.

Claire and I keep a mental storage bank of things that put mom over the edge. Frito Pie is one of them. Tag teaming mom with mentions of meaty, rich Frito Pie with chili and cheese and tiny onions commenced. I talked about the color of the chili about the crunch of the Frito's. Mom was yelling at us to stop. Dad was doing the wheeze-laugh where you were sure his brain would explode.

Claire brought out a little writing board from our toy bag and I wrote "Frito Pie"and "MMMMM" with a picture of a steaming bowl. Tiny Frito like squares were coming out of the bowl.

We put this masterpiece in front of my mom's face and she started dry heaving. VICTORY!! Dad pulled over. Mom dry heaved over the edge of the mountain. Dad and I got out of the car and walked around. We watched mom wretch on this road and laughed, our arms around each other, watching victoriously.