I blew out my voice this weekend in my show, and so I decided I wanted soup for dinner, figuring the warm brothy goodness would be good for my tender vocal chords. I picked up some Campbell’s Chunky Chicken Noodle Soup at the Roxie and head home to work some more on draft 4.0 of my novel.
After completely losing track of time, I put the soup on, eager to slurp it down. As I’m about to pour it out into a bowl, I go to rinse out the empty can for the recycling when I notice an ad on the lid for Super Bowl XL, or Super Bowl Extra-Large as I liked to call it.
Super Bowl XL was in 2006.
A quick look at the expiration date on the bottom of the can confirmed the soup had long since expired.
I’m not a big NFL fan. I will watch the Bears if they’re winning, but mostly I only follow the playoffs and the Super Bowl (and the Bears were in that a few years ago). Those are the only games that matter anyway, and the Super Bowl is such an icon of popular culture I feel compelled to pay attention to it.
And were it not for my knowledge of sports and my feeling of obligation to popular culture, I WOULD HAVE EATEN EXPIRED SOUP FOR DINNER.
I might have died.
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