The universe is trying to tell me something. Something important.
Yesterday, McDonald's forgot to put the chicken mcnuggets in Toby's happy meal. The child was left with nothing but apples and french fries for lunch. Which is all he probably would have eaten anyway. But! Still! No McNuggets!
Also we have had no bread in the house for 3 days. Never mind that I have not been to the grocery store to purchase more bread since we ate the last of it in the form of tasty, tasty toast. We do love us some toast. Even Toby, who - other than the aforementioned apples and fries - usually sticks to his strict diet of cardboard and baby kittens. (Honestly, how did I give birth to a picky eater? I have been known to eat peanut butter straight from the jar. While also eating a dill pickle. And maybe some Doritos. While not pregnant...)
What were we talking about again?
Oh.
Right.
No bread.
So, yeah. No bread in the hizzouse.
This morning I realized that the half-gallon of milk I purchased (no, the day before we ran out of bread) is already empty. We have never before drunk milk this fast. I am baffled. Either we're on an inexplicable milk kick, or a small army of milk-drinking fridge gnomes are making rounds through my kitchen at night. Which would be pretty cool, now that I think of it. Fridge Gnomes! Coming soon to the YouTubes!
This afternoon, after preschool pick-up, my friend Sarah and I stopped at 7-11 to score the kids (and ourselves) some much-needed Slurpee relief in the face of the ridiculous heat and humidity of this afternoon. (Dude! Where's my SPRING?!)
In a fit of what can only be described as Pregnant Craving Rageaholic Syndrome, I grabbed at a package of Hostess Snowballs as though they were the last bottle of water at the last cantina at the edge of the Sahara desert. I might have knocked over a few children and one very old lady; I can't say for sure, it's all a bit of a blur and I'm pretty sure there was tunnel-vision.
I set the Snowballs briefly on the top of the car (remember that for later) as I settled the kids in with their Slurpees. Hot, sweaty, and flustered, I took a long, satisfying pull off of my sugar-free Peach Mango Fusion Crystal Light Slurpee (frackin' 7-11, with their broken Pepsi Slurpee machine) and pulled out of the parking lot to follow Sarah to her house.
Yeah, remember earlier when I put the snowballs on the car? Yeah, neither did I. If they didn't get squished under the crushing weight of the Minivan of Doom, I really hope the homeless guy who likes to pee around the side of the building enjoyed my marshmallow-covered chocolatey goodness cakes.
Finally, I started cooking our dinner tonight -- chicken in curry sour cream sauce -- and about half way into the process realized I forgot to start the rice. With 1o minutes till dinner, I have rice which requires at least another 20 minutes to cook. And we are hungry. And hungry men are on the way home from a rigorous evening of Tee Ball practice.
The universe is definitely trying to tell me something. I just can't decide if the message is that, what with the huge global food shortages, I should appreciate my good fortune and our bounty and be thankful that these are the worst of my food problems.
On the other hand, I think it more likely that it's a much less profound message: Pregnancy makes me really, REALLY stupid.
1 comment:
Get yourself a bag of Basmati rice...6 minutes in boiling water...if you overcook (or if its ready before the rest of the meal), just wrap a pot lid with a dish towel, place over pot of rice, and let it sit on super low heat (higher heat will make the bottom crispy which is also good). The towel will absorb the extra moisture. For added flavor, throw some lima beans in the boiling water a few minutes before the rice. After draining the rice and beans, throw in a lot of dill, some butter and salt. While my kids could do without the lima beans, they tend to like the "green" rice.
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