When did I become such a terrible cook? My grandmother, unlike the stereotypical grandmother, was a terrible cook. I must be channeling her spirit. She made some doozies-some meals were simply inedible. I’m surprised I had a weight problem when I was younger. Some dinners simply had catchy names-”Eatmore”, which really meant “Eatless”. I even took a picture one day of a leftover of something she made that I just couldn’t bring myself to eat. She was a good sport about it and put up with the jokes.
I’ve officially crossed the line from bad to terrible with tonight’s masterpiece. I tell ya, there’s nothing like having the crockpot sitting there on the counter, making the house smell all nice and savory all afternoon, then to open the lid and notice that something doesn’t seem quite right with your porcupine balls. “Hmmm,” I said to dh. “They look a bit watery.”
“Mmmm hmmm,” he said with that smirk in his voice that he gets when I screw up yet another dinner.
I mentally run down the list of ingredients I used. I followed the recipe-it was laid out right in front of me as I was assembling the “porky balls” as I jokingly call them (Interpret that as you want! We run a family-friendly blog here ). As soon as my plate hits the table, it hits me: I forgot to add the rice! So we enjoyed our meatballs for dinner instead.
But it’s always something. A couple of times I’ve forgotten to add the oil to our homemade waffle mix. Then there’s the time I forgot to add the cream to the ragu sauce, which is like forgetting to add the chocolate chips to the chocolate chip cookies. And dh wonders why I don’t like to cook and dinner’s never ready when he gets home from work. I’m secretly hoping he’ll do it himself!
My kids don’t like the meals we make and I don’t blame them. They used to eat what we eat, really they did. But, I did what everyone says you’re not supposed to: I started making them separate meals to get them to eat. However! However, I don’t make a gigantic production out of it, obviously. If I can’t nuke it in the microwave, they’re lucky they get to eat a meal, lol! Actually, it’s probably better if I don’t nuke it in the microwave, IYKWIM . Oftentimes, they get a tortilla for dinner with a lecture of “if you want something better, you can eat what we’re eating.” But lots of times, *I* want the tortilla myself .
The best thing about dinner around here is that dessert follows just after the kids go to bed-shhhhh, don’t tell them! They might find my hiding places!