Why did Job's wife tell him "curds, cod, and pie"?

Job had lost everything. Seven sons and three daughters. Seven thousand sheep. Three thousand camels. Five hundred yoke of oxen. Five hundred donkeys. Numerous servants.

They were all gone—the people killed and the animals taken.

Then, he developed painful sores all over his body. They were so bad he took a broken piece of pottery and scraped his skin while he sat in a pile of ashes.

Understandably, he was distraught. But still, he praised God for the blessings he had experience. And he did not sin.

As the sun fell, he grew hungry. His wife was in the kitchen and he knew she liked to cook when she was upset—he wasn't trying to impose. He just needed some good news. So he asked her what she was fixing for dinner.

He didn't realize that rabid cyborg chipmunks had gone through the pantry not ten minutes before. His wife searched baskets and boxes for anything she could fix. She put the meagre ingredients on the table and said, "Curds, cod, and pie."

Job wailed in distress. Curds, cod, and pie? It's not that such a menu was worse than the loss of his children. It was just one last insult that proved to be too much for a man to take. He hated curds. The texture was all weird—slimy on the outside and mealy on the inside. And cod? He knew it wasn't fresh—it was the salted stuff he had left over from his last trip to Ur. It was only left over because he had dropped it in a mud puddle crossing the Euphrates. He'd meant to give it to the dog.

He took a deep breath and collected himself. "What kind of pie?" he called.

"Um. . ." He knew her hesitation wasn't a good sign. "Uh. . ." She sounded like she was about to cry. "Actually, it's quiche."

She shuffled out of the kitchen, her eyes red and filling with tears. "The quiche that Lorraine brought over."

"With Swiss cheese and green peppers?" he asked. She hated Swiss cheese and green peppers.

She nodded and took a deep, shaky breath.

He held out an arm and she sat next to him. She gently put her head on the one part of his shoulder that wasn't covered in boils.

"It's going to be okay," he said. "God will provide."

She nodded and the tears started flowing.

Behind them, on a hilltop, four men in traveling clothes stopped and gazed down at them.

"What did she say?" Eliphaz asked. "Curse God and die?"

"Nah," said Bildad. "I think it was, "Purse, sod, and tie."

"That doesn't make any sense," Zophar said. "She said, 'Curds, cod, and pie.'"

"Ooh," said Elihu. "I'm hungry. Let's get them a pizza."

"You're such a Baptist," laughed Bildad. "Food is the answer for everything with you guys."

Elihu shrugged, and the men walked into town to find a Pizza Lion.

---