The East Coast has something that not only makes it better than all other coasts (I’m looking at you West Coast), but also better than all other time zones. If you’re an East Coaster…you’ve probably already guessed it. If you aren’t, let me introduce you to the wonder that is Wawa.
At least in Jersey, Wawa is pretty much the source of our existence. We could not live without Wawa.* However, it takes some creativity to explain Wawa without making it come off as a gas station with a convenience store attached. Because, oh dear Lord, it is nothing like that!
*Alright, we could. But it would be gosh darn difficult.
While most Wawas have gas pumps, and they are wonderful not only in price but also in service, Wawa can be your saving grace for so much more…
Rough start to your morning? Wawa
Forgot to bring your lunch to work? Wawa
Dinner didn’t turn out like you imagined? Wawa
Out of eggs, milk, bread, etc? Wawa
Need fuel to get you through working night shift? Wawa
Need a last minute birthday gift? Wawa
Got the midnight munchies? Wawa
The party ran out of ice? Wawa
The chicken is dried out? Wawa
The slow cooker didn’t cook the chicken through and now it’s 8 pm? Wawa
Recipe didn’t come out quite as you expected? Wawa
I’m now going to take this post into a completely different direction, but I promise in the end it will all loop together.
This shirt sums up my sentiments regarding the following content of this post.
A lot of people have the misconception that people who have Down syndrome are always happy. While it is true that they are happy far more often than those of us without an extra chromosome (shame on us) they certainly experience the same exact emotions we experience. While their happiness is often received in overwhelming abundance, any emotion the opposite of happiness is also given with the same force.
Last night, Jonathan was upset. It is unnerving when Jonathan is upset. While I recognize and can communicate to you that people with Down syndrome experience every single emotion we experience, I still fall into the expectation that his transition from upset back to happiness should be quicker and smoother than how it is for myself.
He wanted a sandwich. Specifically, he wanted a Wawa sandwich.
Wawa sandwiches are fantastic, and since there are more Wawa locations per square mile than legitimate delis we find ourselves enjoying sandwiches at Wawa….often. However, Jonathan has a full blown sandwich addiction. Ever since he was little he has eaten ‘turkey roll’. Translation: a turkey and cheese sandwich. The boy could eat sandwiches all day and all night. What is worse is that he has no sensor to realize he is full.
Often, Lance and I will take him for a snack on nights he sleeps over (like last night). He instantly thinks this means another meal. So about fifteen times between dinner and bedtime I was questioned about getting Wawa sandwiches for ‘snack’. He couldn’t understand why I was fighting him over getting a sandwich. I gave him lighter, simpler, snackier options, yet still he persisted in asking for a sandwich.
I didn’t realize he was taking it so hard until as we were watching TV I noticed his face short of any emotion. He was actually getting annoyed at the actors on TV and began telling me that he didn’t want them doing certain things they were doing.
“Jonathan, what is the matter? Are you tired?”
He rolled his head back and shook it no.
“Are you mad?”
He turned his head to me, eyes filled with the attitude of sixteen-year-old girl, and said, “Just a little upset.” He took a long pause, a deep breath, then said, “I want Wawa sandwich!”.
After an explanation of why he couldn’t have a sandwich as a snack, we were back to watching TV. A minute later he turned to me and said, “But why can’t have Wawa sandwich?”
When Jonathan’s mind is set on something we will hear about it, for hours and hours. By the end of the night, I was ready to curse Wawa sandwiches.*
*Please don’t let the Wawa gods know. It was a moment of temporary insanity.
I finally thought we were passed the discussion on Wawa sandwiches. We had relaxed while watching TV, settled on little bowls of ice cream (which I explained to him was an acceptable snack) and were heading up to bed. As I was brushing my teeth he told me, “I need meeting with you.” When I came in to say goodnight, he whispered in my ear, “Why not sandwich?”
I’m not sure what this post proves. It may prove the persistence of an individual with Down syndrome, or at least awaken the realization that it isn’t all giggles and good times for them. Or perhaps, this post has nothing to do with Down syndrome, and it stands as proof of the addictive nature of Wawa hoagies.*
*Again, if you do not live on the East Coast, I feel sincerely sorry for you.