When I was growing up, I went to Northern Wisconsin on vacation with my whole family (cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, etc). Every single summer we all packed up our cars and headed up north for a week at this wonderfully run-down resort (kind of like a rustic version of Dirty Dancing). My Mom and her family had been going since she was 12, so the place was pretty much in our blood. We LOVED it there. Sadly, the place shut down two years ago and we were all devastated.
The resort was known for having handsome college-aged waiters. And when girls vacationing there were in high school and college, it was their turn to party with the waiters—sneak up to their cabin at night, steal food from the kitchen, drink on the tennis courts—AKA be a total badass (ha). I definitely had my days, but that's a story for another time.
So when I was 10, my sister was at the "party with the waiters" stage and I thought she was SO lucky. Our waiter that year, Pete, was SO cute and I had the biggest crush on him. I'd blush (of course) every time he talked to me. And I desperately wanted to grow up faster so I could be cool like my sister and hang out with him.
One morning, Pete came over to take my breakfast order and I wasn't prepared. I was too lost in a daydream starring me and him to think about food. So I quickly blurted out:
"I want some Cream of Pete"
He immediately burst out laughing. I quickly became embarrassed, but I didn't know why. And unfortunately, the whole table heard what I said. Everyone was laughing hysterically, but no one would explain to me what was so funny. So being the total crybaby I was, I burst into tears and ran out of the dining hall. I was totally mortified.
After that day, Cream of Wheat officially became known as "Cream of Pete" in our family. And every year we vacationed there, the story was repeated over and over again. Even to this day, if I'm out with my siblings and see it on a menu, I'll always get a "Look, Pam! Want some Cream of Pete?"
The saddest part? I didn't get what the heck "Cream of Pete" meant for another 6 or 7 years (I was very sheltered), even after being tormented by the story every summer. I couldn't figure out for the life of me what was so funny about my tiny verbal slip-up.
No worries. I get it now. What a dirty kid I was...