Monday, October 7, 2013

Mom = AWESOME, and You Better RECOGNIZE!

Once upon a time, I came to the realization that being a mom is a hard job.  Perhaps I never full appreciated until NOW.  So my mom is the ideal picture of what a mom should be (in my opinion).  This is her below...well close enough.


Now my mom is a cross between June Cleaver and Martha Stewart.  That is what I tell people.  A few things you should know about MY mom.  She always has her face on,  unless she is deathly ill.  She is an exquisite cook, although I have no talent in the art, but read the cook book she gave me like the Bible of the kitchen.  She is smart, independent and sweet like honey.  She is creative and crafty, which I am also not.  Now, currently she is a lady of leisure, which I strive to be and which after yesterday, she has definitely earned.  However, she is always there when you need someone to visit the house at some ridiculous window of 12PM-5PM.  She has saved me on many occasions.  Plus, she has already decorated her house for Halloween.  I think I would CRY if she ever stopped.

Now just recently, my boyfriend had his daughters to my house.  I was paying one of them to scrape glue off my hardwood living room floor.  That is an entirely different story however.  So then, I hear, "I am hungry..."  I am like oh yea, kids have to be fed.  Then, the panic sets in.  I have basically wine, mayo and yogurt in the fridge, not really much for a meal.  So I run down a couple options.  Taco Soup, Chicken ala King...Basically my 5 meals that I can cook well.  They squint, and pause and groan.  I am like SANDWICHES or better yet panini's.  You really can't go wrong with a sandwich.  So guess who is going to the store?  I tell the lovely boyfriend that I will pick up Chicken, Pesto and some ice cream.  Does the lovely boyfriend offer any funds?  No.  Do I care? Well not until the end when I have $6.00 for the week...but that comes later.  So I tell him I am going to head to Albertson's.  He sighs and says their chicken is kinda eh.  I almost had to choke him out.  I only chose that store because it is next to the Marble Slab where I had just then purchased a groupon to pick up some fancy ice cream.  He is a cake-eater about food and only shops at Costco.  I can often get a few things there, but I don't grocery shop there unless its for 2 things I need in great quantity 1) WINE, 2) I am having a damn party with a minimum of 10 people.

So the boyfriend cooks some bacon in the oven.  So I run to the store in hurry.  Forget band-aids and kitty food which is what I really need to get.  But when you are in a hurry, those things are a second though.  So I get the food, SIDEBAR: see Apple Cider, pick that up because it's fall and I LOVE IT.  Then I head to the ice cream store, pick  up a ridiculous amount of ice cream because the neighbors might come over, (BUT THEN THEY DO NOT).  Which actually is fine by the end of the evening.  I come home, pull out tortas (fancy, stiff bread) out of the freezer, and begin to prep.  I am thawing bread.  Then, I said are you ready to grill the chicken, boyfriend states, "yes," then I am the one pulling out the grill.  WHAT?  So I cut open the chicken and he is in the spice cupboard and he is pulling out the lemon pepper.  He was like, "how old is this?"  The cake-eater returns.  I am like it's old, what I don't tell him is that is about 8 years old and you don't really buy spices when you don't cook.  I have the important spices, Cajun whatever, and GARLIC.  Oh and food coloring.  Who doesn't love food coloring???  I digress.  So I find some steak seasoning that is relatively fresh, and by that I mean about a 1 year old or so, give or take.  He dumps the lemon pepper and uses that.  Now, since the bacon was cooking, the house was hot, and smells like Mineral Spirits a lovely chemical of death.  So the chicken cooks, oh and I also got a bonus package of chicken.  Not on purpose, but the idiot check out guy was hurrying me and apparently wanted the fastest scan time in all the land, so when I was ready to go, I grabbed the bags and dashed out.  Well I got someone's family pack of chicken...

So anyways, I am prepping the sandwiches and I had also picked up some candy for the girls.  They are fighting because they can't seem to share.  I am like yes, I recall this.  And then, THEN, I reflect on my mom.  My poor mom.  I bet she wanted to kill me and my brother half the time.  I mean, at that moment I thought, I should have slapped her a high five for kicking ass at raising me.  She could have choked me.  She didn't.  

So since the girls are hungry, they are secretly snatching bits of bacon which was in a bowl to put on the sandwiches.  I don't really notice, I had a small piece, whatever.  So finally after 3 hours or so the damn chicken is cooked.  Now it is good like always but it was also thick and took a while to cook.  The boyfriend then gripes about my dull knives and cuts like one chicken breast because the other fat ones are still cooking.  (I cut the rest...and try not to think of Slasher Halloween movies in the process)  I prepare the girl's sandwiches first.  Plain.  No pesto, no spice, nothing.    So I make one and cut it in half, bring out the chips and put it on the table which I have expanded.  Then the fighting begins.  I am like just split it and then when the next one is ready, you can split that.  Good grief.  Oh and don't worry, there is no bacon for the last 2 sandwiches...So they don't sit at the table but are up and about.  Whatever.  Then the lovely boyfriend threatens them and that if one doesn't sit down, he will eat the sandwich.  So of course that happens and you would have thought we were about to go though a shortage of food like the depression.  She is whining...again.  So the older sister gives her hers and then what happens, you guessed it.  They eat like half of the half of sandwich.  Awesome.  They leave their plates at the table and go back to using their smart device...Meanwhile, I am finishing the third sandwich and the boyfriend is now eating without me.  This is a cardinal sin in my book.  You don't do that.  He realizes it, apologies, but it's too late.  I am hot, irritated and no longer hungry.  I remember when my mom would cook and she would be tasting what she was making and then by the end, not be hungry.  That is where I was.  But maybe, just maybe, it was because she was irritated and wanted to kill us...I was quiet and mad, and the man knew it.  He is pretty gracious with what can he do better?  But by then, I had to really think.  Am I crabby, tired and mad?  Or do I need to start World War III.  Eh, I went with tired.  I cleaned the entire kitchen, scrubbed dishes and loaded the dishwasher.  BEATING.  What happened to I cook and you clean?  

So the kit and caboodle leave and the man calls me and what happened?  He forgot the organic chemistry book (don't ask), the leftover sandwiches, and the Red box movie.  Then he said, yea, can drop that off, referring to the movie.  It was like re-igniting the fire.  I got off the phone shortly after.  Then, I was up.  I was awake, so I watched some TV, then more TV, and then I really couldn't sleep.  I had a hangry headache (DEFINITION OF HANGRY: ANGER FUELED BY HUNGER).  So needless to say, this girl needed a day off.  The morale of the story is this, being a MOM must be tough.  I am not a mom, but now I sympathize a bit.  I should call my mom and thank her for not killing me as a kid.  She's great.  

The End.


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