I am not Gordon Ramsy
These past two days have been like hitting the jackpot as far as Chris and I are concerned. American Idol and celebrity skating? Wonderful. Priceless. We've been whipping out one liners as fast as they come. Which no one else would probably get, but we make each other giggle, so it's all good.
So we're sitting there, making fun of people on tv, because this is the stuff we do together. For some reason, I like to sit with my legs underneath me, so that my feet are near him. I'm weird. He reached down and started playing with my toes. What the hell? He kept taking my second toe and kept bending it up and down. I could feel the bone popping.
"Quit playing with my toes!"
"But they're so little!"
Oh, great. More short jokes. I am 5'4" tall. I don't think that's too short. I mean I know I'm not that tallest person, but I am not the shortest, either. That being said, I am constantly reminded of my height. The toilets at home are just my size. I can sit on them just fine. At my mother's, it's a different story. To this day, when I sit on her toilet, my feet still dangle over the edge. I swear, this thing is like Paul Bunyan's toilet seat. It's tall as hell. I'm twenty-eight! It's ridiculous that my feet still don't touch the floor if I go to the bathroom at my mother's house. Ridiculous, I say. It's like climbing Mt. Everest. I just have to pee, that's all! I don't even have to do number 2! Feet don't fail me now!
You know what else? Creamer, that's what. My Chris loves french vanilla creamer. So does the rest of the population of Quincy. I swear, they should sell this shit on the street corners. It's a struggle to get it whenever I go shopping. You have to get there early. All the old people are up early and sneak into the shops before me to take all the creamer. And let's just pretend that on some odd chance, there is a whole bunch of creamer there waiting for me to buy. I'd buy as much as possible, because there is no way I'm dealing with my Chris sans creamer. He's a bear without it. But that never happens. There's always one or two containers of creamer there on the shelf and wouldn't you know it? It's pushed all the way back on the top shelf. So my short ass has to climb on the damn bottom of the freezer to reach up there and try to get it. The shit I do for my boys. Yes, I climb like a monkey on the freezers of the grocery store, just to get creamer. This is true love, folks. The proof doesn't get any better than this.
It's been experiment week here, when it comes to dinners. My boys hate experiment week. I have come up with some pretty nausea producing combinations in my lifetime. Turkey fajitas were never a good idea. I do pretty well on my own, when it comes to thinking up new ideas for recipes. It's the recipes from others that the boys have problems with. I received a recipe book from Kraft a few days ago. So I went about getting all the things I'd need for experiment week.
The first recipe was a mac & cheese/ salsa dinner. Let's be real here. We are carnivores in this lil household of mine. We are not omnivores. Carnivores. Meat. Good. So making a dish without meat is blasphemous. I added polish sausage to it. It was ok. It could've used more salsa, but to be honest, it just wasn't that impressive.
The second recipe was a citrus beef roast. I always thought the trick to a good cook was being able to incorporate fruit into a meat dish and have it come out all right. I was excited to make this one. I was rooting for this roast. To be honest, I thought it was pretty good. The boys salivated over the smell that wafted through the house. It smelled divine. Unfortunately, the boys didn't think it tasted so divine. So that one wasn't a winner, either. It was the first time I'd cooked a roast, though. Yay, for me. I'm learning new things.
Third recipe was patty melts. I'm not going into this one, because they were nasty. Gross. Kade loved it. Strange kid.
Tonight I'm making chicken cordon bleu. I've never made it before, but my Chris says he loves it. I'm hoping this one works. We're on day four of experiment week and so far, we have no keepers.
This housewife thing is ridiculously hard. What pleases one person doesn't please the next. And you get paid in hugs and kisses. That's always nice. I like that part to be honest. But Kohl's doesn't accept hugs and kisses, no matter how good I tell them they are. It's a shame. It's a damn shame.
So we're sitting there, making fun of people on tv, because this is the stuff we do together. For some reason, I like to sit with my legs underneath me, so that my feet are near him. I'm weird. He reached down and started playing with my toes. What the hell? He kept taking my second toe and kept bending it up and down. I could feel the bone popping.
"Quit playing with my toes!"
"But they're so little!"
Oh, great. More short jokes. I am 5'4" tall. I don't think that's too short. I mean I know I'm not that tallest person, but I am not the shortest, either. That being said, I am constantly reminded of my height. The toilets at home are just my size. I can sit on them just fine. At my mother's, it's a different story. To this day, when I sit on her toilet, my feet still dangle over the edge. I swear, this thing is like Paul Bunyan's toilet seat. It's tall as hell. I'm twenty-eight! It's ridiculous that my feet still don't touch the floor if I go to the bathroom at my mother's house. Ridiculous, I say. It's like climbing Mt. Everest. I just have to pee, that's all! I don't even have to do number 2! Feet don't fail me now!
You know what else? Creamer, that's what. My Chris loves french vanilla creamer. So does the rest of the population of Quincy. I swear, they should sell this shit on the street corners. It's a struggle to get it whenever I go shopping. You have to get there early. All the old people are up early and sneak into the shops before me to take all the creamer. And let's just pretend that on some odd chance, there is a whole bunch of creamer there waiting for me to buy. I'd buy as much as possible, because there is no way I'm dealing with my Chris sans creamer. He's a bear without it. But that never happens. There's always one or two containers of creamer there on the shelf and wouldn't you know it? It's pushed all the way back on the top shelf. So my short ass has to climb on the damn bottom of the freezer to reach up there and try to get it. The shit I do for my boys. Yes, I climb like a monkey on the freezers of the grocery store, just to get creamer. This is true love, folks. The proof doesn't get any better than this.
It's been experiment week here, when it comes to dinners. My boys hate experiment week. I have come up with some pretty nausea producing combinations in my lifetime. Turkey fajitas were never a good idea. I do pretty well on my own, when it comes to thinking up new ideas for recipes. It's the recipes from others that the boys have problems with. I received a recipe book from Kraft a few days ago. So I went about getting all the things I'd need for experiment week.
The first recipe was a mac & cheese/ salsa dinner. Let's be real here. We are carnivores in this lil household of mine. We are not omnivores. Carnivores. Meat. Good. So making a dish without meat is blasphemous. I added polish sausage to it. It was ok. It could've used more salsa, but to be honest, it just wasn't that impressive.
The second recipe was a citrus beef roast. I always thought the trick to a good cook was being able to incorporate fruit into a meat dish and have it come out all right. I was excited to make this one. I was rooting for this roast. To be honest, I thought it was pretty good. The boys salivated over the smell that wafted through the house. It smelled divine. Unfortunately, the boys didn't think it tasted so divine. So that one wasn't a winner, either. It was the first time I'd cooked a roast, though. Yay, for me. I'm learning new things.
Third recipe was patty melts. I'm not going into this one, because they were nasty. Gross. Kade loved it. Strange kid.
Tonight I'm making chicken cordon bleu. I've never made it before, but my Chris says he loves it. I'm hoping this one works. We're on day four of experiment week and so far, we have no keepers.
This housewife thing is ridiculously hard. What pleases one person doesn't please the next. And you get paid in hugs and kisses. That's always nice. I like that part to be honest. But Kohl's doesn't accept hugs and kisses, no matter how good I tell them they are. It's a shame. It's a damn shame.
posted by Ari at 6:05 AM
6 Comments:
Experiment week... you are a brave soul, Ari! I can do that sort of thing with my own boys, but with Mr. Brady's kids? Forget about it. They whine about everything.
My hat is off to you on the job of housewife. It's thankless and rewarding at the same time. If it were up to me, your account at Kohl's and all the rest of the shops would be handsomely credited each time you dried a tear, solved a crisis, or cleaned up a mess.
I'd love to see that citrus roast recipe and find out why it wasn't a hit.
Those feet were made for fiddlin, theres a song in there somewhere.
Experiment week rocks, there's nothing like getting faux compliments and giggling at your creations, but sometimes, oh la la, the Ramsey's of this world cry at the sheer lucky breaks we houseys get! yay us!
what a great post... you cracked me up.
Chicken Cordon Bleu is great, spelling it on the other hand...
I tried some recipes (I don't even thinki I spelled recipe right) that I saw before, and they came out bad, but the second time around I got better. For example when I baked some peanut butter cookies for the first time, I made a mistake and used the wrong type of measuring cup. I used the one for measuring liquids, instead of powders and seasonings. My cookies came out hard as a rock and they were nasty as H@#%. What I am trying to say is, I think you should try and make those recipes again, I bet they will taste better the second time around. Now if only I can get the hang of my aunt's crab salad recipe
I've seen some of the people that work at Kohls,and am gratified that they take money instead of hugs and kisses.
Don't give up on the experimentation. Next thing you know, you'll be doing chicken kiev with a wild rice medley and green beans amandine, and everyone will be happy. Either that, or you'll do what Mrs Cunningham did on Happy Days once when she got pissed off - she threw a frozen steak, a raw potato, and a head of lettuce at her hubby, and yelled "Here's your steak, here's your salad, here's your potato - LIVE IT UP!"
hey there, I haven't been here in awhile. I'm 5'4" also.. although sometimes at the dr it says 5'3" go figure... I'm always being called short.. so either I'm always around really tall people or we are short lol.
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