Buy, bake, & burn

Forgotten cowboy caviar.
Delicious when fresh,
not so much at this point. 

At times I feel like my family would starve without me.  Last week confirmed my suspicions.

I was in Milwaukee last weekend for 2 back to back Irish dancing competitions.  I know, I know.  You are jealous.  I made an effort to go to the grocery store on Friday morning before my early Sat. departure.  I stocked up on staples plus lots of extras.  I neglected to buy Tostitos.

Eddie texted me from school Monday morning.  'If you go to the store, can you get some Tostitos Scoops chips?  We have some dip left, but no chips.'  Well, there you have it.  The other members of the family are incapable of running into the local grocery store to secure a bag of chips.  I was NOT going to the grocery on Monday.  The dips that were left over from my Girls Night Out a week and a half ago got gross waiting around for someone to purchase more chips. 

Lest you thought I was kidding.

My mission of trying to get Tank to eat more fruit has morphed into me making fruit smoothies every morning.  What, you didn't read about my mandarin orange debacle a few weeks ago?  This is your chance to check it out.  Anyway, my huge vats of fruit smoothies require a hefty inventory of fresh fruit.  Everyone gets a sizable serving.  Once he has finished his allotted portion, Reggie waits to see if he can have whatever is left in the Ninja blender.  So when we ran out of fruit, I loaded the tots up and took them to Costco.  Joey sat in the back of the cart surrounded by fruit.  'Ernie, this is a lot of fruit.'  I won't retype it, but Joey likes to repeat himself and he did not disappoint.  I texted my health-nut Eddie a photo of the kids and the surplus of fruit.  'You're welcome.'

Removing black tops from the
 under-cooked doughy rolls underneath.

One morning I didn't have time to make fruit smoothies.  I decided to make a package of Pillsbury cinnamon rolls.  Not a substitute, just a treat.  As I dashed upstairs to take my shower, I told Reg to put the pan in the oven when it reached the right temp.  Ed called upstairs to me to tell me exactly what time Reg put them in, so I knew what time to take them out.  (My new oven timer is too high tech for the kids.  OK, I admit it.  Even I have inadvertently changed the oven temperature when trying to turn on the timer).  Imagine my surprise when I descended the stairs and I smelled something burning in the kitchen.  Reg put the rolls on the top shelf in the oven.  Oops.  It was a bummer, but I realized that my hurried instructions weren't clear.

All was not lost.  I scraped off the tops of the rolls and spread the icing on the salvaged remains.  I think my tone went something like, 'You will still eat them, damn it.'  Mini whined that the cinnamon part was gone.  I sprinkled cinnamon generously on top.  I am a miracle worker, if nothing else.

A new edible item.
 If you ask Tank,
the phenomenon is
a rarity in our house. 
Hardly worth the fuss though.

This morning Tank looked confused.  He stood with knotted eyebrows (yes, it seems to be growing back) motioning to a loaf of cinnamon swirl bread that I bought at the grocery store.  It was buy one get one free.  Apparently, I had failed him by not alerting all family members at the same moment that there was a  new food item available in our home.  Mini had just toasted a few pieces.  Her review:  'Weak, but not bad'.  What do you expect from BOGO?   Tank's chief complaint, besides the fact that I don't serve donuts daily, is that I always buy the same food.  Something new was big news.

When Mini was confirmed a few weeks ago, I went all out and made lasagna.  My lasagna recipe is an all day affair.  I managed to make some other less involved dinners that week and last week, but I hadn't baked anything.  People were beginning to feel unloved.  Reggie was most verbal about it.  I decided to whip up some blueberry oat bread on Monday.  I haven't made this recipe in forever - like years.  We still had a ton of blueberries in the fridge, so why not.

Blueberry oat bread.  An oldie but goodie. 
Can't keep it around for long.

Tank looked at me confused after he sampled a piece after school.  'Why are you bothering with cookies, pumpkin bread, and Irish soda bread when you can make this?  Just make this blueberry bread from now on.  Forget that other stuff.'  Mr. Appetite has spoken.

I got a lot of grief for only making one loaf.  I rarely make one of anything.  Yesterday, I caved.  I made two loaves of blueberry oat bread.  That's 3 loaves in as many days, in case anyone is counting.

An entire drawer stocked with Hostess 
crumb cakes.  How do they
all decide to instantly dislike a food
 that they loved (and complained
when we ran low)
a few short weeks ago?

Do you think a delicious baked-from-scratch treat means they will put away their clean laundry?  Store their shoes in the mudroom?  Keep their dirty clothes off the bathroom floor?   Eat the many boxes of Hostess coffee cakes that I bought because they loved them, and now they all find them repulsive?  Of course not.

As a mom, I feel it is my duty to continue to keep my family from starving:  buy, bake, & burn (although burning is fortunately NOT a typical outcome for me).  Of course I cook dinner too, but I couldn't come up with a 'B' word to flow with the other 'B' words.  Butcher?

Happy Mother's Day to those of you who find yourself constantly baking, buying, burning (hopefully not), butchering, and all the rest!

I am so on the ball, I am even sharing the recipe with you.