You can take the girl out of the trailer park....

I cook just a little bit. I mean, I dabble, but I dabble in really complicated stuff. I like to cook, and sometimes, unless it's cookies you're talking, my culinary experiments turn out pretty freaking wonderfully. My kids favorite dinner? Hamburger Helper Stroganoff.

Grrr.

I have explained to them that REAL stroganoff is wonderful. I have made them real stroganoff on more than one occasion, and their response is always the same: "This doesn't taste right, mawm."

It annoys the crap out of me. Thank god I have Josh to cook for.

The problem there is that he works an odd work schedule. He only has coffee for breakfast and is off to work just before lunchtime, and he doesn't get home before 10:30 p.m. for any reason. And so, he only eats with us ever 2 days a week. Those are the days I get to go all out. I make piccatas, stuffed tomatoes, roasts and pastries for dessert. Those two days are mine to shine. Josh's favorite dinner? Shake & Bake chicken.

I am opposed to Shake & Bake at an indescribable level. It takes just as much time to make a breading from scratch and do something amazing with chicken, less time if you have one of these. Me and Shake & Bake? Yeah, we're not friends. And this man, who has a wife who can c.o.o.k., this man who works for one of, arguably, the snootiest, highest end steakhouses in the world, this man who has such a palate that vineyards across North America call him to ask if he'll take the sommelier exams, who knows great food and wine, this man dreams of eating something out of a box. *shudder*

I refuse to cook it for him. Period. I'd refuse to cook it for you, too. If he wants it, he can cook it himself. Now, there are three things Josh will not do: 1) Admit a man-crush (though he totally has one) 2) Wear pink, no matter how flipping good he looks in it and 3) cook. He just doesn't do it. He is more than capable, he just hates it. He has one dish, and it is admittedly good, and that's all he'll do. Not even Kraft macaroni and cheese happens on his watch. And so, last night, after being asked to cook, "Oh, I don't know...something with chicken and maybe something with broccoli", I decided I'd be nice and surprise him with his long-sought-after dinner.

I learned something about Shake & Bake chicken. Though I strongly contend that it sucks ass in a big way, if you take the chicken, throw it on some white bread with a lot of mayo and a slice of American cheese, you will have yourself what may just be the finest white-trash sandwich ever in the history of sandwiches. I think I might try perfecting this. Maybe a chipotle mayo? Maybe sweet potato chips on the side? I don't know, but I want to find out. 'Cause as they say, you can't ever take the trailer park out of the girl.

This shit? Mind blowing.

I mean, I just started getting the hang of the internet. I finally get it. I understand that our alien overlords have dug, deep into the soil of this earth, a complex system of tubes and wires and through this we can all stay connected. I can finally almost visualize those near-invisible strands of fiber-optic cable that stretch from Bluetooth to Bluetooth, letting me talk to you while you drink a cold Coors 16 ouncer and I stand in line for hours at the Kwik-E-Mart. I realized that Steve Jobs and Bill Gates took a 70/30 split of all the hospital nurseries in the world and have systematically implanted little earwigs in our tiny brains during what they like to call the "hearing tests" administered in the hospital at all our births,
creating Mac people and PC people. I get it. That's not above my intellegence level at all.
But the fact that my Wii can talk to your Wii? I will never, ever understand that.

Arranged marriages are acceptable still, right?

You know what today is? Do ya, do ya? It's the day my evil trinity is made complete! Eeeek!

See, I have three kids; 2 boys, 1 girl. And my friend Andy over here; 1 girl, 1 boy. Until today, that is......

All he has to do is have one more girl, and in 20 years or so we can start, through our grandchildren, to build the evil empire that will dominate the WORLD!

Everyone, please, say a little something to your god of choice for a girl. So that we can rule you as evil grand-overlords. Or something like that.

So much for that idea update:



My oh my, but is he ever a keeper. Details here.

Snarky update, upon further consideration:

It's a caption contest! My contribution.....

Awww, look! He has his mother's sweet nose and his daddy's big mouth.

Others happily posted.

I'm in it now for sure

Remember the other day when I was all blah blah blah I'm a good momma blah blah rules blah blah discipline blah? Well, Molly was kind enough to point out to me that I better curb that shit fast, otherwise my kids might turn me in for child abuse, just like 75 million other American kids.
LOS ANGELES—A chilling national poll of U.S. children ages 3 through 12
estimated that nearly 75 million youngsters suffer both physical and
psychological abuse at the hands of their parents on a daily basis.

Read it here.

Sooo, tell me whatcha want, whatcha really really want

Top 7 random requests of the week, in order of randomness...
  1. I want potty. Which is great, really, except that potty means ramp for Polly Pocket car or something to go pee pee right next to.

  2. I want Wii. Even if she possessed the required eye-hand coordination, they'd never give her a turn.
  3. I want boobies. Um, dude...I stopped nursing you, like, 8 months ago. Move on.
  4. Hey, before you give that prom dress to charity, let me see it a sec...
  5. I want bah. As in bath. Which is nice when it's all this, but honestly, this kid likes spending her days coated in a 3 pound layer of filth.
  6. I want shoe. One: you're too young for a shoe thing, kid. Two: I hear they should go on your feet.
  7. I want yummanummy. Yummanummy is the single cutest word you could ever hope to hear your wee one say. Things that qualify as yummanummies:
  • Gum. Which makes no sense to me, because it always ends up here in the end.
  • Popsicles.
  • Watermelon
  • Pepsi. Not my favorite.
  • And the Pièce de résistance:

Yes, broccoli is a yummanummy. I'm doing something right here, folks.