This is the second night in a row where I have had a great dinner mishap. Yesterday I managed to ruin my small pot I use for steaming vegetables because I didn’t realize the water dried up. The veggies smelled like burning so I threw them down the disposal and was in a foul mood until we were able to air out the apartment. Also, the glass of wine helped.
Tonight, I was going to show Frank that I was going to make the peas he chose over spinach by pouring it in to the pot in front of him. I had the bag of peas in one hand and the pot in the other and then proceeded to pour the peas… onto the kitchen floor.
My One and Only thinks he is funny when he says, “Look at it this way, it’s less veggies to burn!”
I shoo him out of the kitchen, but he decides to add, “at least she didn’t throw them down the stairs, Little Man.”
Your kid falls down the stairs ONE time and you never live it down. (He’s fine, he’s fine! This happened almost 2 months ago! We actually went back to the scene of the crime today and the first thing he did was try to climb up the stairs. He loves stairs despite everything.)
Well I am sure this doesn’t leave you with much confidence in my cooking skills, but I make a few good meals. I was able to convince my funny husband to love me somehow, and I am sure food has at least a small part in the play.
I better go check those bratwurst now.
Reading for 4 