We've been without children for just over one week. So far, we have done the following adult-only activities:
1. Dinner at Mexico Lindo. I did not have a pleasant dining experience there. We've heard an equal amount of rave reviews and pans, so we're thinking there must be two chefs and we got the bad one.
2. Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull. Excellent film! If you like Indiana Jones and/or Harrison Ford, go and see it. Really.
3. Dinner at the Boston Grille, a sports bar/video game/pool hall. The Grille was nice, the games area, not so much. I think we would have had more fun there if 90% of the video games weren't BROKEN. I did get a couple of little plastic people who will stick to the wall if thrown there. Woot!
4. Massachusetts Sheep and Woolcraft Festival. I had lots of fun and bought more yarn, which always puts me in a good mood. We hung out for the rest of the day in Northampton, and Jim had fun, too. We had some difficulty finding a place to eat on the way home (long story...) and ended up at Cracker Barrel. Both of us ordered breakfast for dinner and both of us ate too much.
We had small group of friends over for a barbecue on Memorial Day, which was a lot of fun. There were ribs, delicious hamburgers seasoned with herbs and spices, grilled veggies, corn, watermelon and pie. We all had cocktails made with fresh fruit and mint (mine was a Mojito). The weather was just perfect, too.
Jim worked today but will be taking the rest of the week off so we can hang out, work on some stuff around the house and really enjoy the last half of our vacation without kids.
Meanwhile, the kids are having a great time at my parents' house. From what I can gather, they are eating candy and ice cream, watching awful television like "Barney" and generally having their every whim catered to. Sounds like fun! We call them twice a day. Typical conversation with Lily:
Me: Hi, Lily!
Lily: Hi, Mommy! Can I talk to Papa?
Me: (Version 1): He's at work. (Version 2): Okay.
Lily: Bye, Mommy!
Typical conversation with Jack:
Me: Hi, Jackie!
Jack: Hi, Mommy. (Version 1): I wanna talk a Papa! (Version 2): Grammy gave new shoes. Grandaddy go for walking. (Version 3): Mine plane fell inna dish washer!
Me: Okay!
Jack: Bye, Mommy!
We really do miss them, even if it is fun to have so much adult-only time. The house is clean and very quiet.
Showing posts with label Jim. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jim. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Sunday, May 4, 2008
The Nintendo DS Has Been Located!
Call off the APB. I found the DS! Remember how I mentioned I thought the DS was not in our house? I found it completely by accident today in my car as we were pulling into the driveway. I happened to glance downwards and to the side and saw the case poking out from underneath Jim's sweatshirt, which has been in the car for, coincidentally, as long as the DS has been missing.
Jim and I are pretty sure that Lily was using the DS in the car and one of us then put it in the front before getting out at our destination. Just for the record, Jim told me several times this week that he searched my car, because that was one of the first places I thought of once it was pretty clear (to me, anyway) that the game was not in our house. Today he admitted he only looked on the floor in the back seat. I really should have looked in the car, too. Everyone knows that men are genetically defective when it comes to finding something lost because they have difficulty moving and/or looking underneath things! I really can't believe I didn't notice it all week, but I obviously didn't pick Jim's sweatshirt up off the floor!
I'm relieved that we found it because something else has gone missing. Jim took a brand new loaf of sour dough bread out of the refrigerator while I was at my all day crop on Saturday (Saturday was National Scrapbooking Day!). He advised me this morning that the loaf of bread was missing. He claims that he left it on the counter to thaw, used some of it for dinner last night and then put it in the bread basket we have on the counter. This morning, the basket was empty. We have looked in every cabinet in the kitchen, inside the oven and in the refrigerator and freezer and cannot find it. Jim queried whether the squirrel that's been eating all of our bird seed got into the house and snatched it! We both wondered whether someone was coming into our house and taking stuff or (eek!) living inside our walls like in that movie!
Jim thinks he probably accidentally threw the bread out or left it somewhere random in the house because he was "so busy making dinner and taking care of the kids" while I was gone. Since I spent another hour looking for the DS this morning, I'm confident that the bread is not in the office, living room, guest room, dining room, bath room or Lily's room. I haven't searched the basement or the upstairs.
Anyway, now that we found the DS I feel a little less like Jim's been trying to Gaslight me all week. Or like someone is living in the walls, playing Nintendo and eating sour dough bread!
Jim and I are pretty sure that Lily was using the DS in the car and one of us then put it in the front before getting out at our destination. Just for the record, Jim told me several times this week that he searched my car, because that was one of the first places I thought of once it was pretty clear (to me, anyway) that the game was not in our house. Today he admitted he only looked on the floor in the back seat. I really should have looked in the car, too. Everyone knows that men are genetically defective when it comes to finding something lost because they have difficulty moving and/or looking underneath things! I really can't believe I didn't notice it all week, but I obviously didn't pick Jim's sweatshirt up off the floor!
I'm relieved that we found it because something else has gone missing. Jim took a brand new loaf of sour dough bread out of the refrigerator while I was at my all day crop on Saturday (Saturday was National Scrapbooking Day!). He advised me this morning that the loaf of bread was missing. He claims that he left it on the counter to thaw, used some of it for dinner last night and then put it in the bread basket we have on the counter. This morning, the basket was empty. We have looked in every cabinet in the kitchen, inside the oven and in the refrigerator and freezer and cannot find it. Jim queried whether the squirrel that's been eating all of our bird seed got into the house and snatched it! We both wondered whether someone was coming into our house and taking stuff or (eek!) living inside our walls like in that movie!
Jim thinks he probably accidentally threw the bread out or left it somewhere random in the house because he was "so busy making dinner and taking care of the kids" while I was gone. Since I spent another hour looking for the DS this morning, I'm confident that the bread is not in the office, living room, guest room, dining room, bath room or Lily's room. I haven't searched the basement or the upstairs.
Anyway, now that we found the DS I feel a little less like Jim's been trying to Gaslight me all week. Or like someone is living in the walls, playing Nintendo and eating sour dough bread!
Friday, May 2, 2008
Jim's Big News
I almost forgot to post this, bad wife that I am.
Jim received a Spot Award from his company! He was nominated "based on his outstanding effort during a recent trip to Basel," where he and his boss presented the customized software system that he's been working on for two years.
As I (vaguely) understand it, the purpose of the software is to keep all of the pathology departments worldwide in contact. He hopes it will create common practices as well as helping labs communicate their findings more efficiently. In Basel, he trained their pathology department on using the system and incorporated some of their ideas into the software to customize it even further.
This software project is something he's been working very hard on for a long time and something he's very proud of, so I'm really happy he won this award. He received $250 as a prize, too.
Jim received a Spot Award from his company! He was nominated "based on his outstanding effort during a recent trip to Basel," where he and his boss presented the customized software system that he's been working on for two years.
As I (vaguely) understand it, the purpose of the software is to keep all of the pathology departments worldwide in contact. He hopes it will create common practices as well as helping labs communicate their findings more efficiently. In Basel, he trained their pathology department on using the system and incorporated some of their ideas into the software to customize it even further.
This software project is something he's been working very hard on for a long time and something he's very proud of, so I'm really happy he won this award. He received $250 as a prize, too.
My House is a Black Hole
I have just spent an hour scouring my house for Jim's Nintendo DS Lite game.
Missing Item Report
Subject name: Nintendo DS game
Date of Report: Sunday April 27, 2008 Missing Since: April 26 or 27
Description: Shiny black plastic, last seen wearing a navy blue and black padded case and holding a white stylus. Known to be carrying Jim's mod chip and at least two games in its pocket when last seen.
Facts: Subject last seen by me recharging batteries on the kitchen counter. I believe this event took place last Friday. It was definitely before the weekend. Upon interview, Jim stated that he had last seen the subject sitting on the back of the couch during the weekend. Subject was not reported missing until Sunday evening, at which time this household officer did not take the report seriously. Many items go missing for brief periods of time and show up a few hours later. I don't consider an item officially "missing" until it's been gone at least 24 hours.
Upon interview, Lily stated that she did not know where the subject was and did not recall whether she had seen it or not. Upon interview, Jack stated "Papa game GONE."
Jim searched the home half-heartedly on April 27. Both Jim and I searched a little more thoroughly on several occasions between that date and May 1, 2008. I conducted a hard target search this afternoon, with no success.
Status: The game is really missing!
Seriously, this house is not that big. I've checked all of the kids' usual hiding spots: behind the couch, behind the chair, behind the radiators, in my knitting basket, in the storage drawers under Lily's bed (where I located the missing flashcards she's supposed to be working on), in the bathroom cabinets and in the TV cabinet. No game to be found.
My Household Officer instincts are telling me that the game was removed from the house by someone. I checked the car to see if Lily brought it with her on a ride somewhere, but it is not in my car. I've left a message with Jim to make sure he didn't bring it along with him somewhere and leave it at a friend's house or in his briefcase. Help! I'm running out of ideas! Maybe a masked intruder broke into our home and stole the DS?
My usual mantra in these cases is "It'll turn up." Things always do. But the DS has been missing for a long time now. Things usually show up in a couple of days.
There must be a secret kid hiding place that I haven't discovered yet. I'm off to look again, this time while cleaning up the house. Wish me luck! If you can think of any other places I should look, leave a comment. This is making me CRAAAAA-ZY!
PS: Thanks for the nice comments, both on here and in real life. I'm not going to let the haters get me down!
Missing Item Report
Subject name: Nintendo DS game
Date of Report: Sunday April 27, 2008 Missing Since: April 26 or 27
Description: Shiny black plastic, last seen wearing a navy blue and black padded case and holding a white stylus. Known to be carrying Jim's mod chip and at least two games in its pocket when last seen.
Facts: Subject last seen by me recharging batteries on the kitchen counter. I believe this event took place last Friday. It was definitely before the weekend. Upon interview, Jim stated that he had last seen the subject sitting on the back of the couch during the weekend. Subject was not reported missing until Sunday evening, at which time this household officer did not take the report seriously. Many items go missing for brief periods of time and show up a few hours later. I don't consider an item officially "missing" until it's been gone at least 24 hours.
Upon interview, Lily stated that she did not know where the subject was and did not recall whether she had seen it or not. Upon interview, Jack stated "Papa game GONE."
Jim searched the home half-heartedly on April 27. Both Jim and I searched a little more thoroughly on several occasions between that date and May 1, 2008. I conducted a hard target search this afternoon, with no success.
Status: The game is really missing!
Seriously, this house is not that big. I've checked all of the kids' usual hiding spots: behind the couch, behind the chair, behind the radiators, in my knitting basket, in the storage drawers under Lily's bed (where I located the missing flashcards she's supposed to be working on), in the bathroom cabinets and in the TV cabinet. No game to be found.
My Household Officer instincts are telling me that the game was removed from the house by someone. I checked the car to see if Lily brought it with her on a ride somewhere, but it is not in my car. I've left a message with Jim to make sure he didn't bring it along with him somewhere and leave it at a friend's house or in his briefcase. Help! I'm running out of ideas! Maybe a masked intruder broke into our home and stole the DS?
My usual mantra in these cases is "It'll turn up." Things always do. But the DS has been missing for a long time now. Things usually show up in a couple of days.
There must be a secret kid hiding place that I haven't discovered yet. I'm off to look again, this time while cleaning up the house. Wish me luck! If you can think of any other places I should look, leave a comment. This is making me CRAAAAA-ZY!
PS: Thanks for the nice comments, both on here and in real life. I'm not going to let the haters get me down!
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
When Papa Is In Charge
This has been a very long week. Monday: hours spent dealing with the neighbor's (pretty serious) family problems. Tuesday hours spent waiting to see if those problems would be resolved without incident, to no avail. Wednesday: dentist appointment, ballet class, ballet photograph, and, in between, more hours spent waiting to see if the neighbor's problems were resolved without incident (they finally were). Thursday: Jack woke up early and really cranky and Lily refused to get dressed in outdoor clothing until 4 pm. Friday: hours spent organizing the office, shredding bank statements going back to 2000, organizing all of my knitting supplies, cleaning the living room, family room and kitchen, doing all of the laundry and running out to Wal-Mart for a few things. (Normally, I wouldn't have so many duties on a Friday, but a lot fell by the wayside this week).
No, I did not clean under the couch, but I had reason to move it out to look for Jack's binky and there was remarkably little debris under there! It's like the gods of the Undercouch are giving me a break after the last horror show.
Anyway, enough griping about my week. Now I'm going to gripe about when my husband is in charge of the kids.
Fact the first: Never let a 2 year old and 4 year old play in the garage unattended. This is what will occur, I promise you:
Jack found a paint roller loaded with Killz, which Jim had rolled up in a plastic bag and stored in the garage. Much painting fun then ensued. We tried scrubbing, but the paint dried too quickly.
Fact the Second: If you are dead set on getting out the wading pool in the middle of April, don't let said kids play around it unattended. This is what will occur:
They removed most of the sand from their sand table, and made mud in the driveway.
Someone threw giant rocks in the pool and ripped a hole in the bottom.
Lily took a bucket of bird seeds and threw them on the porch stairs, in the driveway and all over the back yard before Jim caught her.
Fact the Third: If said children are allowed to play in the pool, they will get very, very cold. Several neighbors will also comment on how early you are letting your children wade in a pool in their swimsuits. I'm just waiting for CPCS to show up to investigate the incident.
I want it on the record that I did object to the swimsuits and pool. I was told in a tone that brooked no argument that: (a) 65-70 degree weather is warm enough to swim in a pool; (b) it is an old wives' tale that children can get sick from being wet and cold; (c) it is also an old wives' tale that being wet and cold can lower a child's immunity and make him more susceptible to catching a cold; and (d) if the kids feel cold, they will tell him and get out.
I also want it on the record that when I took Jack in to get changed into dry clothes for his nap, he said "I get chilly outside with Papa." That accounted for his blue lips and uncontrollable shivering. Here's a picture of the kids later today -- please note that Lily is wearing a WINTER jacket.
During this time period, Jim also let our 8 and 10 year old neighbors come into the house with Lily to play Wii unattended. I have no problem with him letting the neighbors play at our house, or play Wii if he's with them, but I do have a problem when a toddler and young kids are allowed to roam my house at will with no supervision. Even the best behaved kids can get into trouble at that age.
I know I should have stepped in and supervised the kids, but I worked so hard yesterday, I asked for and was allowed some time off from kid watching. I should have known it was too good to be true.
In between all of the mischief and naughtiness, the three of them did get some home improvement work done. We have three new bird feeders:
Jim made this one!
We bought this one last weekend. Can anyone explain why all of the red coloring disappeared from the feeder?
Jim made this one, too!
Jim removed a portion of the vinyl siding and the wood looks pretty good. It turns out we have some nice cedar shingle under the vinyl. We are thinking about removing all of the siding and having the house painted this summer.
No, I did not clean under the couch, but I had reason to move it out to look for Jack's binky and there was remarkably little debris under there! It's like the gods of the Undercouch are giving me a break after the last horror show.
Anyway, enough griping about my week. Now I'm going to gripe about when my husband is in charge of the kids.
Fact the first: Never let a 2 year old and 4 year old play in the garage unattended. This is what will occur, I promise you:
Jack found a paint roller loaded with Killz, which Jim had rolled up in a plastic bag and stored in the garage. Much painting fun then ensued. We tried scrubbing, but the paint dried too quickly.
Fact the Second: If you are dead set on getting out the wading pool in the middle of April, don't let said kids play around it unattended. This is what will occur:
They removed most of the sand from their sand table, and made mud in the driveway.
Someone threw giant rocks in the pool and ripped a hole in the bottom.
Lily took a bucket of bird seeds and threw them on the porch stairs, in the driveway and all over the back yard before Jim caught her.
Fact the Third: If said children are allowed to play in the pool, they will get very, very cold. Several neighbors will also comment on how early you are letting your children wade in a pool in their swimsuits. I'm just waiting for CPCS to show up to investigate the incident.
I want it on the record that I did object to the swimsuits and pool. I was told in a tone that brooked no argument that: (a) 65-70 degree weather is warm enough to swim in a pool; (b) it is an old wives' tale that children can get sick from being wet and cold; (c) it is also an old wives' tale that being wet and cold can lower a child's immunity and make him more susceptible to catching a cold; and (d) if the kids feel cold, they will tell him and get out.
I also want it on the record that when I took Jack in to get changed into dry clothes for his nap, he said "I get chilly outside with Papa." That accounted for his blue lips and uncontrollable shivering. Here's a picture of the kids later today -- please note that Lily is wearing a WINTER jacket.
During this time period, Jim also let our 8 and 10 year old neighbors come into the house with Lily to play Wii unattended. I have no problem with him letting the neighbors play at our house, or play Wii if he's with them, but I do have a problem when a toddler and young kids are allowed to roam my house at will with no supervision. Even the best behaved kids can get into trouble at that age.
I know I should have stepped in and supervised the kids, but I worked so hard yesterday, I asked for and was allowed some time off from kid watching. I should have known it was too good to be true.
In between all of the mischief and naughtiness, the three of them did get some home improvement work done. We have three new bird feeders:
Jim made this one!
We bought this one last weekend. Can anyone explain why all of the red coloring disappeared from the feeder?
Jim made this one, too!
Jim removed a portion of the vinyl siding and the wood looks pretty good. It turns out we have some nice cedar shingle under the vinyl. We are thinking about removing all of the siding and having the house painted this summer.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
I Told Them I Couldn't Cook!
As most of you know, I do not cook. Over the almost 17 years of our marriage, Jim has done the majority of the cooking. Why? He likes to cook, he's good at it and it relaxes him.
From time to time, Jim tries to teach me to cook. His lessons consist of him telling me to do something and then criticizing my "technique." For example, he especially dislikes the way I use a whisk. I don't have the appropriate wrist action. He inevitably ends up taking everything away from me and doing it himself "the right way." Needless to say, after about 10 of these lessons, I learned to say "no, thanks!" when he offers to teach me to cook.
I like baking. Baking relaxes me. I like the way you combine a bunch of ingredients into one bowl, mix them together, put them in some type of baking implement and throw them into the oven. No fuss, no muss. The oven does all of the hard work -- I'm only responsible for getting the ingredients mixed and into the oven. I don't even have to pay attention to the oven because it has a timer that automatically lets me know when the baking is done! Cooking, on the other hand, requires one to do a lot of preparation, often in several different bowls and containers, and then hover over everything while you cook it on the stove. There may be continual stirring, or the adding of various ingredients at certain times, and the changing of heat levels. In cooking, the cook controls everything and must attend.
This rather lengthy treatise on cooking/baking is just a lead in to What Happened to Me Yesterday.
You see, we had about a pound of fish left over from my last trip to the fish market. Jim froze it and we agreed that it would be used to make a fish chowder. I adore fish chowder, especially my mom's version.
When my mom was in town a couple of weeks ago, I asked her to help me make chowder. I bought the ingredients, but somehow we never got around to making the chowder. So, on Monday I suggested that this would be a good week to make the chowder and Jim agreed.
On Tuesday morning, I called my mom and added all of the ingredients I needed for the chowder to my weekly grocery list. Then Jim said that I should start the chowder before he got home. He said he thought that would be easiest. I told him that I didn't think I would be able to make an edible chowder. Seriously, I knew there was the delicate cooking of a milk product involved, and that's just a recipe for disaster with me. Jim insisted that chowder was simple and I would be able to do it. "Just call your mom and ask her how she makes it!"
After the shopping was done, I called my mom. This is the recipe she gave me, based on the notes I took during our conversation:
Mom's Fish Chowder
Dice some potatoes and cook them separately. Cut up 1/2 of an onion and saute it in olive oil with 4-5 pieces of bacon cut up into small pieces. When you are done sauteing, make a roux (I have no idea how to spell that) with 2 tablespoons of flour and a cup of cold water. Add that into the bacon and onions and stir. Use low heat. When it thickens, add the potatoes, the fish and slowly add the milk and heavy cream so they don't curdle. Voila! Fish chowder! Easy peasy.
Right away, I had some questions.
Me: Do I saute in the frying pan?
Mom: No, I do mine in my Dutch oven.
Me: Do we have a Dutch oven?
Mom: Yes, the one I gave you.
Me: What does it look like?
Mom: The big metal pot with two handles.
This initial exchange should have warned my mother that I was already swimming beyond my depth with this recipe. Did she try and stop me? No.
I started the chowder at 4:45, figuring I would have plenty of time to get the ingredients together by 5:45, which is when I usually go to pick up the kids from school. I called my mom again:
Me: How big do you cut up the potatoes?
Mom: I dice mine.
Me: Like into little cubes?
Mom: Yes.
Me: Do I boil them in water or saute them?
Mom: Boil them, of course! (talking like I'm stupid, which I am about cooking).
Me: Okay. How long?
Mom: Geez, Wendy! You know how long! Boil them until they are soft.
Me: Okay.
I hung up and called Jim.
Me: Jim, how long do I boil potatoes?
Jim: How big are the pieces?
Me: I'm cubing them into little cubes.
Jim: I figure about 15 minutes. Test them to see if they are soft enough.
Me: Okay!
I hung up and began peeling the potatoes. Once they were peeled, I started to dice them. The first potato I cut flew off the counter and onto the floor. The second piece I cut did the same thing. I tried three different knives before I found one that seemed sharp enough to work. I put the potatoes in our big saucepan and started them to boil. So far, so good.
The next step was the onions and bacon. I decided to put in a whole oinion, because when I cut up half an onion it looked too small. While cutting the onion, my eyes started to sting. I reached up to wipe my eye with the back of the hand holding the knife and flung half an onion and a few small pieces stuck to the knife onto the floor.
My next step was to put the onions into the Dutch Oven (or the "big pot" as it is known to me) to saute them. I sprinkled in a bit of olive oil and turned the burner on medium. The oil started to smoke and sizzle almost immediately, so I threw in the onions and turned the heat down a bit. I let the onions saute while I went to cut up the bacon.
Now, please understand that I picked out some thinly cut, inexpensive bacon to use in this recipe. I grabbed what I thought was the package of bacon out of the fridge and pulled out a big, thick slab of bacon. It did not look like what I purchased, but I thought maybe I picked up the wrong thing. Again, I had to try out a couple of different knives to find one sharp enough to cut the bacon. Note to Jim: We need to sharpen all of our knives. It was slippery and difficult to cut, so my "small" pieces were kind of largish and thick. (I later realized that I was using the extra thick hickory bacon Jim bought, and not the run-of-the-mill cheap bacon I bought).
I checked on the onions. Somewhere in the recesses of my brain, I remembered that onions would look clear when they were done. I saw that the onions had been sauteing for 15 minutes with no apparent change, so I thought I should add more olive oil. I poured a generous helping in and then put in the bacon.
At first it smelled really good and I was excited. By this time, the potatoes were done and they looked fine. I had the frozen fish thawing in the microwave, and about 30 minutes left before I had to leave for the kids. Oddly, however, the bacon was not really getting crispy like it should, and was instead a series of pasty white blobs that looked disconcertingly like larvae. Also, the onions still weren't clear. I decided to put in another call to my mom.
Me: The onions and bacon aren't cooking. The bacon is just in big, floppy blobs!
Mom: How long have they been in the pan?
Me: About 30 minutes. Do you think I might have too much olive oil?
Mom: How much did you put in?
Me: About 1/2 cup.
Mom: That's way too much! You only need enough to coat the bottom of the pan until the bacon starts to melt. Take a few tablespoons out. (I followed her advice and took out about 5 tablespoons).
Me: Uh-oh, a black residue is forming on the bottom of the pan!
Mom: How high is the heat?
Me: It's on medium!
Mom: I don't know, that should be fine.
Me: It's getting worse -- it's a big burned mess.
Mom: Well, throw it out and try it again.
Me: (thinking to myself, not bloody likely!)
I got off the phone with my mom, shed a few tears and called Jim.
Me: (crying) I think my chowder is inedible. The onions and bacon are a black, smelly mess. Why did you think I could do something this complicated???
This is what my end result looked like:
When Jim got home, he assured me that the onions were just carmelized and that they smelled good. It was a sweet gesture, but I know he was lying. He admitted to me today that he and my mom had discussed the incident and agreed that a recipe involving a bunch of different techniques, like sauteing and a roux, was probably beyond my limited cooking capabilities.
The fish went back into the freezer and we mashed up the potatoes, which were perfectly boiled, by the way.
The 2 olives are STILL in the refrigerator, for those of you who might be wondering. I'm going to see how long they stay in there until Jim either (a) makes them into a sandwich (right) or (b) throws them away.
From time to time, Jim tries to teach me to cook. His lessons consist of him telling me to do something and then criticizing my "technique." For example, he especially dislikes the way I use a whisk. I don't have the appropriate wrist action. He inevitably ends up taking everything away from me and doing it himself "the right way." Needless to say, after about 10 of these lessons, I learned to say "no, thanks!" when he offers to teach me to cook.
I like baking. Baking relaxes me. I like the way you combine a bunch of ingredients into one bowl, mix them together, put them in some type of baking implement and throw them into the oven. No fuss, no muss. The oven does all of the hard work -- I'm only responsible for getting the ingredients mixed and into the oven. I don't even have to pay attention to the oven because it has a timer that automatically lets me know when the baking is done! Cooking, on the other hand, requires one to do a lot of preparation, often in several different bowls and containers, and then hover over everything while you cook it on the stove. There may be continual stirring, or the adding of various ingredients at certain times, and the changing of heat levels. In cooking, the cook controls everything and must attend.
This rather lengthy treatise on cooking/baking is just a lead in to What Happened to Me Yesterday.
You see, we had about a pound of fish left over from my last trip to the fish market. Jim froze it and we agreed that it would be used to make a fish chowder. I adore fish chowder, especially my mom's version.
When my mom was in town a couple of weeks ago, I asked her to help me make chowder. I bought the ingredients, but somehow we never got around to making the chowder. So, on Monday I suggested that this would be a good week to make the chowder and Jim agreed.
On Tuesday morning, I called my mom and added all of the ingredients I needed for the chowder to my weekly grocery list. Then Jim said that I should start the chowder before he got home. He said he thought that would be easiest. I told him that I didn't think I would be able to make an edible chowder. Seriously, I knew there was the delicate cooking of a milk product involved, and that's just a recipe for disaster with me. Jim insisted that chowder was simple and I would be able to do it. "Just call your mom and ask her how she makes it!"
After the shopping was done, I called my mom. This is the recipe she gave me, based on the notes I took during our conversation:
Mom's Fish Chowder
Dice some potatoes and cook them separately. Cut up 1/2 of an onion and saute it in olive oil with 4-5 pieces of bacon cut up into small pieces. When you are done sauteing, make a roux (I have no idea how to spell that) with 2 tablespoons of flour and a cup of cold water. Add that into the bacon and onions and stir. Use low heat. When it thickens, add the potatoes, the fish and slowly add the milk and heavy cream so they don't curdle. Voila! Fish chowder! Easy peasy.
Right away, I had some questions.
Me: Do I saute in the frying pan?
Mom: No, I do mine in my Dutch oven.
Me: Do we have a Dutch oven?
Mom: Yes, the one I gave you.
Me: What does it look like?
Mom: The big metal pot with two handles.
This initial exchange should have warned my mother that I was already swimming beyond my depth with this recipe. Did she try and stop me? No.
I started the chowder at 4:45, figuring I would have plenty of time to get the ingredients together by 5:45, which is when I usually go to pick up the kids from school. I called my mom again:
Me: How big do you cut up the potatoes?
Mom: I dice mine.
Me: Like into little cubes?
Mom: Yes.
Me: Do I boil them in water or saute them?
Mom: Boil them, of course! (talking like I'm stupid, which I am about cooking).
Me: Okay. How long?
Mom: Geez, Wendy! You know how long! Boil them until they are soft.
Me: Okay.
I hung up and called Jim.
Me: Jim, how long do I boil potatoes?
Jim: How big are the pieces?
Me: I'm cubing them into little cubes.
Jim: I figure about 15 minutes. Test them to see if they are soft enough.
Me: Okay!
I hung up and began peeling the potatoes. Once they were peeled, I started to dice them. The first potato I cut flew off the counter and onto the floor. The second piece I cut did the same thing. I tried three different knives before I found one that seemed sharp enough to work. I put the potatoes in our big saucepan and started them to boil. So far, so good.
The next step was the onions and bacon. I decided to put in a whole oinion, because when I cut up half an onion it looked too small. While cutting the onion, my eyes started to sting. I reached up to wipe my eye with the back of the hand holding the knife and flung half an onion and a few small pieces stuck to the knife onto the floor.
My next step was to put the onions into the Dutch Oven (or the "big pot" as it is known to me) to saute them. I sprinkled in a bit of olive oil and turned the burner on medium. The oil started to smoke and sizzle almost immediately, so I threw in the onions and turned the heat down a bit. I let the onions saute while I went to cut up the bacon.
Now, please understand that I picked out some thinly cut, inexpensive bacon to use in this recipe. I grabbed what I thought was the package of bacon out of the fridge and pulled out a big, thick slab of bacon. It did not look like what I purchased, but I thought maybe I picked up the wrong thing. Again, I had to try out a couple of different knives to find one sharp enough to cut the bacon. Note to Jim: We need to sharpen all of our knives. It was slippery and difficult to cut, so my "small" pieces were kind of largish and thick. (I later realized that I was using the extra thick hickory bacon Jim bought, and not the run-of-the-mill cheap bacon I bought).
I checked on the onions. Somewhere in the recesses of my brain, I remembered that onions would look clear when they were done. I saw that the onions had been sauteing for 15 minutes with no apparent change, so I thought I should add more olive oil. I poured a generous helping in and then put in the bacon.
At first it smelled really good and I was excited. By this time, the potatoes were done and they looked fine. I had the frozen fish thawing in the microwave, and about 30 minutes left before I had to leave for the kids. Oddly, however, the bacon was not really getting crispy like it should, and was instead a series of pasty white blobs that looked disconcertingly like larvae. Also, the onions still weren't clear. I decided to put in another call to my mom.
Me: The onions and bacon aren't cooking. The bacon is just in big, floppy blobs!
Mom: How long have they been in the pan?
Me: About 30 minutes. Do you think I might have too much olive oil?
Mom: How much did you put in?
Me: About 1/2 cup.
Mom: That's way too much! You only need enough to coat the bottom of the pan until the bacon starts to melt. Take a few tablespoons out. (I followed her advice and took out about 5 tablespoons).
Me: Uh-oh, a black residue is forming on the bottom of the pan!
Mom: How high is the heat?
Me: It's on medium!
Mom: I don't know, that should be fine.
Me: It's getting worse -- it's a big burned mess.
Mom: Well, throw it out and try it again.
Me: (thinking to myself, not bloody likely!)
I got off the phone with my mom, shed a few tears and called Jim.
Me: (crying) I think my chowder is inedible. The onions and bacon are a black, smelly mess. Why did you think I could do something this complicated???
This is what my end result looked like:
When Jim got home, he assured me that the onions were just carmelized and that they smelled good. It was a sweet gesture, but I know he was lying. He admitted to me today that he and my mom had discussed the incident and agreed that a recipe involving a bunch of different techniques, like sauteing and a roux, was probably beyond my limited cooking capabilities.
The fish went back into the freezer and we mashed up the potatoes, which were perfectly boiled, by the way.
The 2 olives are STILL in the refrigerator, for those of you who might be wondering. I'm going to see how long they stay in there until Jim either (a) makes them into a sandwich (right) or (b) throws them away.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Now for the Cute and Funny
I like to balance out my posts with a good one about the kids after I bore you non-knitters with my knitting stuff, so here are some cute shots of Lily modeling the new sweater her Grandma Deeds made for her. One photo also features the matching purse (somewhat stretched out by the pounds of change she poured in there from her piggy bank). Also, it's hard to see, but she insisted on posing with two of her Barbies in a couple of the photos.
That was the cute, in case you couldn't tell.
This is the funny -- here are a few things that the kids said this week that I found amusing:
Lily, talking about how God filled up the rivers and ponds: "He must have used his mother's garden hose!"
Jack's stock response when asked about school: "I play with friends, I play with fun mag-a-nets, I play outside, I have 'nack, I play with fiahfucks." Translation: mag-a-nets = magnets, 'nack = snack and fiahfucks = firetrucks.
Jack, talking about an upcoming trip to North Carolina: "I go walk with Papa to the rainmoo. Papa show me the rainmoo." Rainmoo = windmill. Of course, Jim isn't going to North Carolina, and the "rainmoo" is actually at the home of Jack's other grandparents! He's a little confused. I doubt he remembers the last time he visited North Carolina, but he sure remembers the "rainmoo" in California!
Lily, explaining why she doesn't cry when I drop her at school now: "I don't have to cry if I don't want to." Too bad she didn't feel this way for the last six months.
Finally, time to make fun of myself a bit. Remember that one time that I complained about Jim? And his scraping of cream cheese and two olives? Remember how annoyed I was? Well, I guess I believe in karma because yesterday Jim had good reason to be annoyed with me. He called me at about 8:30 (shortly after he left the house) and asked me to put the steak tips in to marinade. The catch? I was supposed to look on the internet to find a recipe and make the marinade myself.
As some of you may be aware, I am not a good cook. In fact, I can barely make macaroni and cheese from a box. Baking? Love it. Cooking, on the other hand, usually leads to me setting something on fire. Anyway...I was not thrilled about having to find a recipe and put together a marinade, but I agreed to do it and hung up.
Within about 15 minutes I completely forgot about the conversation. I'd like to blame my heart medication or lack of sleep. One or both of them probably contributed to my forgetfulness. If I'm being brutally honest, however, I suspect there was some element of a subconscious passive-aggressive desire to forget about it! Either way, I did not give the matter a second thought until Jim arrived at home and told me he was going out to start the grill. I didn't even remember it when he mentioned the grill! Then he asked "Did you remember to marinate the steak tips?"
Oops. He seemed a little annoyed and he said with a sigh, "I suppose I can try to marinate them while the grill is getting ready." He did and they tasted great.
Later, as I was telling my mom about the incident, she told me you can marinate steak tips in Caesar dressing. Umm, that would have been easy, even for me! I mentioned it to Jim and he said with a tone of annoyance "I know, that's what I ended up marinating them in." Good to know. Perhaps he should have mentioned that option to me instead of suggesting that I hunt down a recipe and make marinade from scratch.
So, seeing it from Jim's perspective, he probably has even more reason to rant about me than I have about him. Although, I would like to mention that those two olives? They're still in the fridge and no one has made a sandwich out of them to date.
That was the cute, in case you couldn't tell.
This is the funny -- here are a few things that the kids said this week that I found amusing:
Lily, talking about how God filled up the rivers and ponds: "He must have used his mother's garden hose!"
Jack's stock response when asked about school: "I play with friends, I play with fun mag-a-nets, I play outside, I have 'nack, I play with fiahfucks." Translation: mag-a-nets = magnets, 'nack = snack and fiahfucks = firetrucks.
Jack, talking about an upcoming trip to North Carolina: "I go walk with Papa to the rainmoo. Papa show me the rainmoo." Rainmoo = windmill. Of course, Jim isn't going to North Carolina, and the "rainmoo" is actually at the home of Jack's other grandparents! He's a little confused. I doubt he remembers the last time he visited North Carolina, but he sure remembers the "rainmoo" in California!
Lily, explaining why she doesn't cry when I drop her at school now: "I don't have to cry if I don't want to." Too bad she didn't feel this way for the last six months.
Finally, time to make fun of myself a bit. Remember that one time that I complained about Jim? And his scraping of cream cheese and two olives? Remember how annoyed I was? Well, I guess I believe in karma because yesterday Jim had good reason to be annoyed with me. He called me at about 8:30 (shortly after he left the house) and asked me to put the steak tips in to marinade. The catch? I was supposed to look on the internet to find a recipe and make the marinade myself.
As some of you may be aware, I am not a good cook. In fact, I can barely make macaroni and cheese from a box. Baking? Love it. Cooking, on the other hand, usually leads to me setting something on fire. Anyway...I was not thrilled about having to find a recipe and put together a marinade, but I agreed to do it and hung up.
Within about 15 minutes I completely forgot about the conversation. I'd like to blame my heart medication or lack of sleep. One or both of them probably contributed to my forgetfulness. If I'm being brutally honest, however, I suspect there was some element of a subconscious passive-aggressive desire to forget about it! Either way, I did not give the matter a second thought until Jim arrived at home and told me he was going out to start the grill. I didn't even remember it when he mentioned the grill! Then he asked "Did you remember to marinate the steak tips?"
Oops. He seemed a little annoyed and he said with a sigh, "I suppose I can try to marinate them while the grill is getting ready." He did and they tasted great.
Later, as I was telling my mom about the incident, she told me you can marinate steak tips in Caesar dressing. Umm, that would have been easy, even for me! I mentioned it to Jim and he said with a tone of annoyance "I know, that's what I ended up marinating them in." Good to know. Perhaps he should have mentioned that option to me instead of suggesting that I hunt down a recipe and make marinade from scratch.
So, seeing it from Jim's perspective, he probably has even more reason to rant about me than I have about him. Although, I would like to mention that those two olives? They're still in the fridge and no one has made a sandwich out of them to date.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Just So I Don't Kill Him
I try very hard to make this blog about me and the kids, with the occasional funny story about Jim. I think I've followed that rule pretty successfully up until now. Today, I am going to rant just a bit.
It has not been a fun morning in our household. The kids are peevish from lack of sleep (all four of us were in one bed last night). I'm peevish from lack of sleep. As a result, when the kids wanted to play in Lily's room, I was happy to let them go. And then...silence. I am angry with myself for not checking out the cause of the silence immediately, because I should know better. Sadly, I continued to update my blog widgets and peruse patterns on Ravelry. After about 10 minutes, however, I thought it behooved me to check on them.
They were not in Lily's bedroom. They had decided it would be more fun to play upstairs in my room and Jack's room. I called up the stairs and asked what they were doing. Lily said "We'll be right down, Mom. C'mon, Jack."
Those words sent chills down my spine. I practically sprang from the first floor to the second in a single bound. The upstairs was messy. The kids had pulled out a lot of Jack's stuffed animals and a few of Lily's, and they were lying around the room like casualties on a battle field. All of the pillows were on the floor, and there were several long pieces of what looked like accordian pleated plastic wrap lying around. Annoying, but a mess is easy to clean.
And then, there was the smell. A fruity smell. I asked Lily what the smell was and she said "We just washed our hands with some soap."
Me: "What soap?"
Lily: "I'll go put it away."
Me: "What soap are you talking about?"
Lily: "The shampoo soap you bought yesterday." She ran off and came back with the bottle of shampoo, now more than a quarter empty. I lectured her and told both kids to pick up the mess and get downstairs. I went down and put the shampoo in the cabinet. Where it belongs. Where the kids can't reach it. Where Jim failed to store it last night after bath time.
And...I noticed the brand new bottle of Mr. Bubble Bubble Bath was missing. Again, I sprang like a gazelle up the stairs and looked wildly around. I noticed nothing unusual, so I begin to interrogate the kids.
Me: "Where is the bubble bath? Did you take that, too?"
Lily: "I decided to hide it."
Me: "Where?"
Lily: "I'm a very curious child." Giggle, giggle, giggle.
Me: "Where. Is. The. Bubble. Bath."
Lily: "I used some to wash my stuffed animals."
Me: "Did you use it all? Where is it?"
Lily: "There's a little left."
Me: "GET THE BUBBLE BATH. NOW!"
Lily: "Here it is." She had hidden it in the drawer under Jack's crib. It was partially open and lying in a cardboard box.
The cardboard box was drenched with soap. Upon closer inspection, there were several animals and pillows drenched with soap as well. The bubble bath? That I bought yesterday and we used once last night? Empty. Because Jim failed to put it in the cabinet, where it belongs and where the kids can't reach it.
Now, I know I share the blame, because I should have immediately looked for the kids when everything went silent. Silence = Very Bad. But I have more, oh so much more to rant about.
I was annoyed by the shampoo/bubble bath lollapalooza, but, mindful of my own contribution, I managed to remain calm. I hauled the kids downstairs so that I could keep them under constant surveillance, and went into the kitchen to make some breakfast for myself. I opened the refrigerator and grabbed some bagels and then looked for the cream cheese.
When I opened it, this is what I found:
That's right, there is barely enough cream cheese to cover half a bagel, never mind two entire halves. Someone had replaced a near-empty container of cream cheese in the refrigerator. Up high. On a shelf that our children cannot reach. I know it wasn't me.
I was also treated to this lovely vision after I moved the cream cheese container:
Doesn't it just make you crave a banana? And right next to that, I noticed a second container. I opened it and this is what I saw:
Yes. Jim made pizza two nights ago and decided he Just. Couldn't. slice up the last TWO olives and put them on the pizza. I guess he figured it was more important to save those two olives by shoving them into the back of the refrigerator in their container. Since neither of us drink martinis, I am not certain what he believed we would do with these two olives. Maybe they would be serve as an amuse bouche? A little midnight snack?
The little seed of annoyance sprouted into a small sapling of rage. That is when I decided to write about it in order to avoid pelting Jim with the two olives and rotting banana when he walked in the door. Mission barely accomplished.
Epilogue: While I was writing this post, Lily took her brother into the kitchen with her where she told me she was getting a drink. In fact, she removed the bubble bath container from the trash, squirted the last few drops into Jim's partially filled orange juice glass from this morning, added a dash of water and gave it to Jack with a straw in it. He, of course, took a big sip. Apparently, bubble bath doesn't taste so good, and makes you drool and gag bubbles. He had his revenge, though. Lily let him go with her to water her lettuce seedling later on and he threw the little pot to the ground, where it broke into a million pieces and splattered dirt everywhere.
I can't believe it's only 2:27 pm.
It has not been a fun morning in our household. The kids are peevish from lack of sleep (all four of us were in one bed last night). I'm peevish from lack of sleep. As a result, when the kids wanted to play in Lily's room, I was happy to let them go. And then...silence. I am angry with myself for not checking out the cause of the silence immediately, because I should know better. Sadly, I continued to update my blog widgets and peruse patterns on Ravelry. After about 10 minutes, however, I thought it behooved me to check on them.
They were not in Lily's bedroom. They had decided it would be more fun to play upstairs in my room and Jack's room. I called up the stairs and asked what they were doing. Lily said "We'll be right down, Mom. C'mon, Jack."
Those words sent chills down my spine. I practically sprang from the first floor to the second in a single bound. The upstairs was messy. The kids had pulled out a lot of Jack's stuffed animals and a few of Lily's, and they were lying around the room like casualties on a battle field. All of the pillows were on the floor, and there were several long pieces of what looked like accordian pleated plastic wrap lying around. Annoying, but a mess is easy to clean.
And then, there was the smell. A fruity smell. I asked Lily what the smell was and she said "We just washed our hands with some soap."
Me: "What soap?"
Lily: "I'll go put it away."
Me: "What soap are you talking about?"
Lily: "The shampoo soap you bought yesterday." She ran off and came back with the bottle of shampoo, now more than a quarter empty. I lectured her and told both kids to pick up the mess and get downstairs. I went down and put the shampoo in the cabinet. Where it belongs. Where the kids can't reach it. Where Jim failed to store it last night after bath time.
And...I noticed the brand new bottle of Mr. Bubble Bubble Bath was missing. Again, I sprang like a gazelle up the stairs and looked wildly around. I noticed nothing unusual, so I begin to interrogate the kids.
Me: "Where is the bubble bath? Did you take that, too?"
Lily: "I decided to hide it."
Me: "Where?"
Lily: "I'm a very curious child." Giggle, giggle, giggle.
Me: "Where. Is. The. Bubble. Bath."
Lily: "I used some to wash my stuffed animals."
Me: "Did you use it all? Where is it?"
Lily: "There's a little left."
Me: "GET THE BUBBLE BATH. NOW!"
Lily: "Here it is." She had hidden it in the drawer under Jack's crib. It was partially open and lying in a cardboard box.
The cardboard box was drenched with soap. Upon closer inspection, there were several animals and pillows drenched with soap as well. The bubble bath? That I bought yesterday and we used once last night? Empty. Because Jim failed to put it in the cabinet, where it belongs and where the kids can't reach it.
Now, I know I share the blame, because I should have immediately looked for the kids when everything went silent. Silence = Very Bad. But I have more, oh so much more to rant about.
I was annoyed by the shampoo/bubble bath lollapalooza, but, mindful of my own contribution, I managed to remain calm. I hauled the kids downstairs so that I could keep them under constant surveillance, and went into the kitchen to make some breakfast for myself. I opened the refrigerator and grabbed some bagels and then looked for the cream cheese.
When I opened it, this is what I found:
That's right, there is barely enough cream cheese to cover half a bagel, never mind two entire halves. Someone had replaced a near-empty container of cream cheese in the refrigerator. Up high. On a shelf that our children cannot reach. I know it wasn't me.
I was also treated to this lovely vision after I moved the cream cheese container:
Doesn't it just make you crave a banana? And right next to that, I noticed a second container. I opened it and this is what I saw:
Yes. Jim made pizza two nights ago and decided he Just. Couldn't. slice up the last TWO olives and put them on the pizza. I guess he figured it was more important to save those two olives by shoving them into the back of the refrigerator in their container. Since neither of us drink martinis, I am not certain what he believed we would do with these two olives. Maybe they would be serve as an amuse bouche? A little midnight snack?
The little seed of annoyance sprouted into a small sapling of rage. That is when I decided to write about it in order to avoid pelting Jim with the two olives and rotting banana when he walked in the door. Mission barely accomplished.
Epilogue: While I was writing this post, Lily took her brother into the kitchen with her where she told me she was getting a drink. In fact, she removed the bubble bath container from the trash, squirted the last few drops into Jim's partially filled orange juice glass from this morning, added a dash of water and gave it to Jack with a straw in it. He, of course, took a big sip. Apparently, bubble bath doesn't taste so good, and makes you drool and gag bubbles. He had his revenge, though. Lily let him go with her to water her lettuce seedling later on and he threw the little pot to the ground, where it broke into a million pieces and splattered dirt everywhere.
I can't believe it's only 2:27 pm.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Like Father, Like Daughter
Before I tell you this story, I want you to know I did struggle with my conscience about writing it. For about three seconds!
We like to eat breakfast out every six weeks or so, and we've lately been eating at the International House of Pancakes, better known as "IHOP." In fact, Jack learned how to imitate a frog today after we talked about the acronym IHOP, but I digress. A few months ago, we were getting ready to go out to breakfast and Lily was being obstinate. I can't remember if it was lack of sleep, feeling sick or just general cussedness, but she didn't want to get dressed or go to the "stupid IHOP." After some discussion and threats, she unwillingly got dressed, but informed us that, if we made her go, she was going to wear her shoes on the wrong feet. We decided we could live with that if she could, so off we went.
We arrived a little later than usual, due to the battle of wills at home. Unfortunately, we just missed that window of time where we would be seated immediately (before 10 am, if anyone decides to eat at the Saugus IHOP), and we had to wait about 10 minutes. As we were sitting there, I noticed that a couple on the bench across from us were watching Lily and smiling. I smiled back, and the woman said "She has her shoes on the wrong feet." Lily said "I did that on purpose!" and the couple laughed, and told us their daughter sometimes did the same thing. As we were taken to our table, I saw other patrons looking at her feet and smiling.
Fast forward to this morning. We had promised last night that we would take the kids to IHOP in the morning, and they both woke up raring to go. Despite the heavy snow/ran mix that was falling, we made it to the restaurant before 10 and were seated immediately. The kids ordered their usual "Make a Face" pancakes, I ordered my usual corned beef hash and scrambled eggs, and Jim, as usual, ordered the special that offered the most sickly sweet pancake creation and too much other food. I think he does that just so he can tell me he ate too much on the way home, because that's what happens every time. This week's special pancake was Shortbread Pancakes with strawberry syrup. Ugh.
After a nice breakfast together, we got back in the car to go home. As I started the engine, Jim lifted his feet a bit so I could see them and said "Are my boots on the wrong feet?" I said, "I'm not sure" and he said "Yep, they are" and pointed. Sure enough, the side zippers were on the inside and you could see the toes curved to the outside. After laughing until tears came into my eyes, I asked "Didn't they feel uncomfortable?" and Jim said "Well, they're so big I didn't notice."
We like to eat breakfast out every six weeks or so, and we've lately been eating at the International House of Pancakes, better known as "IHOP." In fact, Jack learned how to imitate a frog today after we talked about the acronym IHOP, but I digress. A few months ago, we were getting ready to go out to breakfast and Lily was being obstinate. I can't remember if it was lack of sleep, feeling sick or just general cussedness, but she didn't want to get dressed or go to the "stupid IHOP." After some discussion and threats, she unwillingly got dressed, but informed us that, if we made her go, she was going to wear her shoes on the wrong feet. We decided we could live with that if she could, so off we went.
We arrived a little later than usual, due to the battle of wills at home. Unfortunately, we just missed that window of time where we would be seated immediately (before 10 am, if anyone decides to eat at the Saugus IHOP), and we had to wait about 10 minutes. As we were sitting there, I noticed that a couple on the bench across from us were watching Lily and smiling. I smiled back, and the woman said "She has her shoes on the wrong feet." Lily said "I did that on purpose!" and the couple laughed, and told us their daughter sometimes did the same thing. As we were taken to our table, I saw other patrons looking at her feet and smiling.
Fast forward to this morning. We had promised last night that we would take the kids to IHOP in the morning, and they both woke up raring to go. Despite the heavy snow/ran mix that was falling, we made it to the restaurant before 10 and were seated immediately. The kids ordered their usual "Make a Face" pancakes, I ordered my usual corned beef hash and scrambled eggs, and Jim, as usual, ordered the special that offered the most sickly sweet pancake creation and too much other food. I think he does that just so he can tell me he ate too much on the way home, because that's what happens every time. This week's special pancake was Shortbread Pancakes with strawberry syrup. Ugh.
After a nice breakfast together, we got back in the car to go home. As I started the engine, Jim lifted his feet a bit so I could see them and said "Are my boots on the wrong feet?" I said, "I'm not sure" and he said "Yep, they are" and pointed. Sure enough, the side zippers were on the inside and you could see the toes curved to the outside. After laughing until tears came into my eyes, I asked "Didn't they feel uncomfortable?" and Jim said "Well, they're so big I didn't notice."
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
The Lily and Jack Stand Up Hour
The kids were quite entertaining this evening. I'm proud to introduce the following jokes as told by Lily:
L: Knock Knock
Me: Who's there?
L: Ivan
Me: Ivan who?
L: Ivan working on the railroad all the day! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Jack: (sings made up words and laughs)
L: Knock Knock
Me: Who's there?
L: Banana
Me: Banana who?
L: Hello, I'm an orange! Squeeze my juice please! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Jack: Orange! Orange! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
L: Knock Knock
Me: Who's there?
L: Kitty
Me: Kitty who?
L: Kitty let me in the door and don't slam it on me! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Jack: Slam door! Slam door! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!
As well as being Lily's biggest fan and imitator, Jack has also been doing a terrific impersonation of Michael Jackson all evening. He took one of his navy blue and green stripped mittens, which he refers to as a "hand," and has been wearing it on his left hand all evening. He even ate dinner while holding his fork in the mittened hand (notably, he hasn't managed to get his thumb into the thumb hole, so I found his fork handling pretty impressive). He refuses to take it off.
Oh yeah, Jim performed a little comedy routine earlier in the day. While I was in court, Jim dressed Jack. When I got home, Jim left to go into work and I took Jack's shoes off to get him ready for a diaper change and a nap. Jack was wearing forest green socks that I'd never seen before. I was wondering where they came from as I pulled them off, which is when I realized that Jim had put a pair of my cotton peds on Jack. You know how hard it is to tell the difference between a pair of Women's size 9-10 peds and a pair of Toddler size 6 socks....NOT. When I asked Jim about it this evening, he said "I thought they seemed a little big." I would like to state for the record that Jack had an entire package of brand new socks in his clothing drawer and my peds were downstairs on the folding table, so I'm really unclear on how this happened.
L: Knock Knock
Me: Who's there?
L: Ivan
Me: Ivan who?
L: Ivan working on the railroad all the day! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Jack: (sings made up words and laughs)
L: Knock Knock
Me: Who's there?
L: Banana
Me: Banana who?
L: Hello, I'm an orange! Squeeze my juice please! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Jack: Orange! Orange! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
L: Knock Knock
Me: Who's there?
L: Kitty
Me: Kitty who?
L: Kitty let me in the door and don't slam it on me! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Jack: Slam door! Slam door! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!
As well as being Lily's biggest fan and imitator, Jack has also been doing a terrific impersonation of Michael Jackson all evening. He took one of his navy blue and green stripped mittens, which he refers to as a "hand," and has been wearing it on his left hand all evening. He even ate dinner while holding his fork in the mittened hand (notably, he hasn't managed to get his thumb into the thumb hole, so I found his fork handling pretty impressive). He refuses to take it off.
Oh yeah, Jim performed a little comedy routine earlier in the day. While I was in court, Jim dressed Jack. When I got home, Jim left to go into work and I took Jack's shoes off to get him ready for a diaper change and a nap. Jack was wearing forest green socks that I'd never seen before. I was wondering where they came from as I pulled them off, which is when I realized that Jim had put a pair of my cotton peds on Jack. You know how hard it is to tell the difference between a pair of Women's size 9-10 peds and a pair of Toddler size 6 socks....NOT. When I asked Jim about it this evening, he said "I thought they seemed a little big." I would like to state for the record that Jack had an entire package of brand new socks in his clothing drawer and my peds were downstairs on the folding table, so I'm really unclear on how this happened.
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