I didn't realize that being a mom required an advanced culinary degree. If I have a nervous breakdown, it's scheduled between 5:00-6:00.
My kitchen is mayhem. I'm bouncing around clanking pots, pans, and plates. Shit is all over the place. Butter is smeared on Parker's homework, ketchup is splattered on Paige's backpack, and cream of mushroom soup somehow ended up on the window. It's fucking ridiculous.
I'm like a crazy clown gone bad as soon as I hear those three words, "What's for dinner?"
I panic and start opening cans before I even have an inkling of what I'm about to make. And it usually sucks ass.
Last night I layered lasagna incorrectly. Who does that? I got to the last layer and I was out of beef, sauce, and cheese. Apparently, I didn't pace myself. Have you seen lasagna with naked noodles on top? I panicked and spread butter on them. When it doubt, use butter.
And here's a confession, I don't own sugar. I have a tiny box of raw sugar for my coffee, but not the big bag required for baking. My neighbor called to borrow a cup. I explained that I only have raw sugar, which proabably wouldn't work for her cupcakes. From scratch.
I have flour, but I don't know why.
We had friends over once and one of them looked in my fridge and said, "What, are you moving?"
No, I'm not moving, I just don't comprehend what the fuck I need to buy at the grocery store. I wander around looking at everyone else's cart, wondering what in God's name they're going to prepare with yogurt, scotch tape, pork, and Cheerios.
So I beg of you. If you have a recipe that is easy (I can't stress that word enough), please post a comment.
If you have an issue posting a comment, let me know. People are having a tough time with it lately. If you click on Post Comment twice, it usually works. It's more sensitive than a 12 yr old girl.