He gave it to me to hold and keep safe.
He said, “I trust you with this because I’ve never seen you spoil anything.
Except when you’re cooking.”
Wow. Thanks, son!
The twins have recently entered the world of e-mail. This means they can insult each other electronically.
How quickly they grow up!
I remember when they first learned to write, and left rude notes for each other.
It just warms your heart, doesn’t it?
Conversation with my just-turned-nine-year-old son:
Usually I stand in the kitchen and ask myself, “What will I NOT HATE that I can make tonight without too much trouble?” And then I answer myself, “Cold cereal it is!”
No, I’m joking, obviously.
I do have to cook so the people in the house don’t starve. The trouble is, I really HATE meal planning.
I know people who have wonderful little calendars planned out with each meal for the week all written down, and they buy all the ingredients in advance to fit each dinner so that both grocery shopping and cooking are a model of efficiency.
This is SO NOT ME.
I have mentioned before my model for food shopping, which is basically just throwing stuff onto my cart at random. (Click here if you want to see an illustrated version of that.)
And whenever I try to assign certain meals to certain days of the week I feel trapped and suddenly lose my appetite for whatever I’ve planned.
It feels like Food Slavery to me. But of course, we have to eat SOMETHING.
So here’s what I do.
When I get back from the store and start putting away all my random purchases, I make list of all the meals I can possibly make from the stuff I just bought.
(While I’m saying to myself, “Why did I get this again?” and “Oh shoot, I forgot some essential thing!” of course.)
I post the list on the refrigerator. Then when it’s time to make dinner, I can look at the list and pick something, crossing it off after I make it.
Don’t say I never put anything practical on this blog. Have you SEEN my new recipe tab?!
As evidenced by the state of my couch in my previous post, I’m in the market for some new furniture.
So here’s how that went:
She came back with a key and led me out the back door, across the snow-packed lot, past a dumpster, and then into a warehouse crammed full of mismatched furniture with red tags.
I do believe I have found myself something I can afford, I thought!
Confession: I have a cleaning service come to my house every other week.
Yes, I’m a housewife who doesn’t even clean her own house. Don’t you wish you were me?
No seriously, I have Merry Maids, and they do a great job. I recommend them. If I could afford to have them come every day I would.
And it’s fabulous to look at my nice clean house! Until the kids wreck it again. So… for about ten minutes every two weeks it’s pretty sweet.
Last week while the Merry Maids were at my house I went to the store for a few things.
For me getting “just a few things” at the store means spending $150 and still having nothing to make for dinner. But I digress.
I came home to my beautiful clean house and started putting all my grocery bags on the kitchen counter.
They were plastic bags, because I forgot to bring my reusable “green” bags into the store again. (I hate it when I do that!)
So, the plastic bags were not very stable and I put too many on the counter at once, causing a bag with a couple of soda bottles to fall off the edge of the counter.
I screamed as I watched the sodas smack into a counter stool, which broke the lid off one of them and began spewing Diet Coke all over my clean house.
Due to my lovely “open floor plan,” the soda was free to spray not only all over the kitchen, but also to gush over the living room, dining room, and as far as the glass patio doors.
Diet Coke was truly everywhere in my house that had JUST BEEN CLEANED!! It was awful.
And not only did I have to mop up all that spilled soda, I didn’t have any Diet Coke left in the bottle to drink!!
Yeah I know. First world problems.