Betty Crocker I is Not..Apparently

I confess…my cooking sucks. My husband, to this day, will retell (and retell, and retell) the story when we were newlyweds and I attempted to make clam chowder.

Only I accidentally used oysters instead.

Did you know oysters turn a milk-based soup green? Plus when you give it a stir, it looks like eyeballs floating in it. It was a bad scene.

So it’s no secret my hubby does all the cooking in the house. Why fight it? He wants to do it and it saves me from hearing screeching and someone yelling “the smoke detectors going off again! Mom must be cooking!”……..

Smart a$$es.

So today and tomorrow it’s “MEA” around here. I don’t know what “MEA” really means, but in my world that means:
1. No school
2. Hubby is duck hunting.

And since there is no school, our First Grader is enjoying the good life at Joy’s. She’s been our daycare provider for the last 6 years.

Maybe too good.

Mom”, .Jake comments as he watches me fumble around the kitchen. “Gramma Joy’s cooking is very…old. And it’s very good”. (She’s one of those annoying cook-from-scratch-people.)

“oh really?” I murmur while prowling the cupboards for something to nuke that resembles supper.

“Yup“, Our Eldest Rugrat adds confidently. “And your cooking is very…YOUNG…and it’s not very good”.

Gee thanks. Thank goodness for hot dogs, PB&J, and daycare ladies…or my children would starve during hunting season!

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