Coach was trying to put a shelf up on the garage wall that the kitchen workers knocked down 3 years ago. No one could speak to him and ask him: Where should we put this? Do you still need this? while he worked on the shelf hanging.
So: lots of standing around. My least favorite thing, while working on a project. Finally, I reached up to grab something off of a high shelf. So . . . the thing I grabbed didn't look like it was near where Coach and Mini were working on the shelf, but it knocked into something else that then fell and hit an empty milk crate and the milk crate fell TOWARDS where Coach was crouched over hanging the shelf and despite my screams . . . the corner bonked off of his head.
It was like a game of PLINKO gone bad. It bounced the wrong way. Well, Coach was NOT happy. Understandably. I apologized profusely and then I abandoned ship. I felt thrilled to have the shelf back, but I also thought that might have been better as a separate project since it was taking FOREVER.
Aside from bonking Coach on the head, I also used my super powers to whip up SEVERAL meals over the weekend. Now, we just have to remember to eat them so we don't have to throw any food away.
At Costco I bought 10 pounds of ground beef last week. I also bought a huge thing of pork chops AND I will be cooking them in my crock-pot Monday (writing this Sunday night). No forgetting rotting meat this time.
Anyway, I browned a few pounds of ground beef Friday and tossed some pasta sauce in it for people to eat with pasta. Then I prepared a few pounds for tacos, because I don't eat pasta, and Ed prefers tacos too. Just call me a crowd pleaser.
FINALLY, I made a little more than 5 pounds into Sloppy Joe's.
My children behaved like it was Christmas morning when they heard Sloppy Joe's would be on the upcoming menu. Even Lad, our resident vegetarian, decided to eat meat. They ate them Sunday night and gave them rave reviews. They were downright giddy.
Of course I say this, but I assume you all experience the same thing: make something they love once too many times in the same calendar year and be prepared for their wrath. Like, sleep with one eye open. What is the formula, anyway?
While you ponder this, I will share that we have officially added dirty rice to our regular meals over here. That was part of Ed's 'make-a-meal-Mommy-doesn't-make' pandemic adventure and it stuck. Get it, rice? Stuck? I'll be here all week.
The kids voted to keep Reg's recipe, pesto mozzarella chicken - shared by Beth, in the recipe rotation. I have agreed, but I am conserving my chicken at the moment because it's hard to get - so they wait, patiently, because they are angels - in case you didn't realize.
|Served on a bed of lettuce for the celiac Mom.|
Anyway, my face was sweating when we ate Ed's dirty rice. Then Ed and I made it again one night and I was in one of my let's-make-a-ton-of-shit-so-I-don't-have-to-cook-again-for-at-least-48-hours moods.
It was a side dish and I was preparing something else while hollering over my shoulder things like: Ed, add more rice. I think I have another box of rice somewhere. Let's make a whole other pan. Get some more veggies cut up. Let's do this.
Well, I lost track of how many times we were multiplying the recipe and we just tossed in a bunch of paprika and cayenne pepper. Lord have mercy, spicy. My mouth was on fire and had to keep blotting my face - but eat it we did, because who knew when we would get rice again.
At the time there were also shortages on gallons of milk. I blinked wildly and begged them to stop, but my offspring gulped one full glass of milk after the other - splashing it carelessly down their chins- to calm the fire in their mouths. Well, shit - that was a pandemic misfortune. The equivalent to having a bad case of diarrhea early on when there was no spare toilet paper to be found, I guess.
|Third time is the charm. . . I was channeling my|
inner Goldilocks - it was JUST RIGHT!
I must share that last week I made ANOTHER mountain of dirty rice. Some family members insisted they wanted it spicy. Who even are they? I agreed to make it spicy, but secretly winked at Curly. She was with me - tone it the fuck down.
I quadrupled it, but did not quadruple the spices and voila - perfection. Even my sudden 'bring on the spice' people were completely satisfied, and for now I have cancelled my plan to go out and purchase a cow for the yard to keep up with our milk consumption. Sort of sad about that, because let your imagination run wild with my plans for cow pies . . . you got it:
"Special delivery for Mary Ann." wink, wink, nudge, nudge.
Now I just have to worry that my children will lynch my in my sleep once I have pushed the envelope and prepared dirty rice one two many times.
ME: Don't hurt me! I will run out and get ground beef for Sloppy Joe's first thing tomorrow!
(FYI: I was trying to keep this post under 1,000 words and before I added this it was at 1,004 . . . like my dirty rice, not bad).
Do you like spicy, or not? What did you not eat growing up that you later realized EVERYONE else was eating?