Who Knew Pasta Was a Fruit?

 I am in desperate need of a lifeline.

I find myself in anticipation of a similar quandry as befalls many a participant on "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire". Uncertain of the correct response to the question posed, able to reach out to someone more knowledgable to help navigate troubled waters. A phone call, an answer, defeat  deferred, maybe even fully beaten back 

To appreciate my woes, you must first recognize that tales of my ineptitude are, unfortunately, not borne of exaggeration but all too troubling reality. And it appears I have now voluntarily placed myself in a most exposed situation.

Consider that my heart is in the right place. Having been double vaccinated and more than two weeks removed from my last shot, I have volunteered to work at a food pantry. In the abstract, this sounds like a mundane task. What, you may wonder, would be causing me such angst?

As with most everything else in life, my knowledge on the subject of food could comfortably fit on the head of a pin with ample room to spare. The kitchen and I have never been close, and at times something far less. Asking me to boil water is an invitation to calamity  I have to cut a bagel with my fingers, as a knife would hold the distinct possibility of disaster 

So, the difference between a fruit and a vegetable eludes me. Asking me to pick out kale poses a  challenge similar to my being able to earn a degree in quantum physics. Carbohydrates, gluten free? Are you kidding?

The existential issue of my deficiency is unknown to those with whom I will soon be side by side. They undoubtedly anticipate that the person with them is quite able to walk and at least carry a stick of gum in their pocket simultaneously.

My son in law has provided ominous warning to me. He volunteered at the same venue last week. "Normally I don't worry about you, but this is different. I really don't see how you will be able to make it." And this from the person who most believes in my capacity.

I well understand the world is filled with important concerns. That my limitations are of exactly no meaning to the larger universe . But when that family gets home expecting to find nutritionally satisfying goods that meet not merely their needs but their requests and instead finds themselves knee deep in my world, you will understand my trepidation.

Who knew pasta was a fruit?