Traumatic cooking experience

Well, I was not going to share this story because as you will be able to soon imagine it is highly embarrassing. The only thing good is that my family hates computers and even more so the Internet, so I am safe in assuming that they will never read this. The other day I was feeling very inspired and decided to cook a family meal that would be different. Because you see I have this feeling that we eat the same things all of the time, which is really not so much a feeling as an actuality. So I get out my little cook book and I come across a wonderful sounding recipe that involves chicken, cheese tortillas and some various other parts. Of course this sounds very easy (and wonderfully delicious). So Parker and I go traipsing off to the store to get all of the essential ingredients. While I am standing in the produce section of our local grocery store I must have looked very lost (Of course you must understand I rarely buy fresh things that are unknown to me). I try very hard to stick to known substances which would be the major food group items. But for this recipe that I can already see Gordon raving over I needed fresh parsley. As I am standing there and Parker is looking at me like come on mom! a very nice older gentlemen that works there asks me if I need help. Of course I am not one to turn down free advice (especially not from him because he miraculously always seems to be where I need him when I need him and his advice has yet to fail me). I tell him I do indeed need help and I tell him what I need. He immediately turns to the section (obviously marked parsley) and pulls down a beautiful bundle of the aromatic green bundle. He asks me what I am using it for, and I tell him what my intentions are. He kindly informs me to remove the end form the skinny stalks before putting it in my soon to be delicious mix of things. I go home and start making it. Gordon gets home and starts helping me (because little did I know you have to cut things up, stir the hot boiling oozing cheesy stuff AND get the tortillas ready) all at the same time. To an expert this is nothing, to me this is a disaster. So while Gordy is stirring things I proudly produce my fresh parsley from the fridge. I wash it off tear the tops off and proceed to throw it in. As I finish the last bit of throwing the parsley chunks into the melting lava that was at one time cheese Gordon yells "WHAT are you doing!?!?!?!" Of course since I naturally have a sweet nature and am not at all given to panic I answer "putting in the parsley" which he then says to "You have to cut it up!! LOOK at the picture in the book, they are NOT hunks they are tiny pieces." Of course my first thought is to remove the large hunks of parsley, which at this time is looking more and more like spinach from the moulting lava. Of course after 5 years of marriage and being able to read me pretty well, Gordy at once says "just leave it, it'll be ok." Which is his code way of saying "I am not putting burn ointment on your fingers every 4-6 hours and cooking dinner!" So we mix the rest together put it in the tortillas and place them safely in the oven. As we are eating my fabulous dinner we had to occasionally pull out chunks of a spinach like substance that oddly tasted of parsley. Needless to say we did not eat all of the 12 chicken cheese things that it made. My dreams of a beautiful amazing tasting dinner was out the window, but who cares right? We didn't starve AND we got some good tips for next time we cook something that requires fresh items. Needless to say I don't think I will ever make that again, the huge chunks of parsley will haunt me forever. And when I go back to the store I will not be sharing my horror story of how the parsley ruined my wonderful dinner to the kind elderly gentleman that had faithfully guided me in the right ways of cooking for countless years. I just can't let him down.

Daddy running away with junk

So because I am not in school right now I have had a lot of time to look around the house, something I rarely have time to do. It has come to my attention that my house is very cluttered. Every closet is filled to the brim and every nook and cranny has something in it. Of course you have to realize that we've been in this house for over three years, but this is still RIDICULOUS!! So, Gordy and I have been VERY motivated these past few weeks (I really have NO idea why) and we've been cleaning things up and moving things around. The first weekend we cleaned the backyard up...which is AMAZING, it still has stuff to be done but it's getting there. Then the weekend before we cleaned out the garage (that was NOT fun) but it is done now. AND this past weekend we cleaned out the office closet! I am so proud of us. The stupid thing is there was still clothes in there from when I was in high school. I decided that since I am a Mommy now it wasn't really very cool to be wearing scooby-doo shirts and care bears. I think I will leave that up to Parker. The sad thing is there is so much stuff in our house that we will never need! I really think there is elves of clutter in my house. It's as if there are little elves running around our house putting random things in our closets. Some of that stuff I have NO IDEA where it came from. BUT I am watching out for them now that I am aware and all of the stuff we don't need is NOT getting put in a closet...it's just going to Goodwill. Yes, I sent Gordy packing yesterday with his truck full of things that I hope others will love as much as I did...or at least not throw it in the closet and forget about it. So, the really cute story out of all of this mess is: As Gordy was leaving (with a ton of bags of useless junk and old clothes) I say to him "Are you running away?" And he says yes, with all of my old winter clothes at least I won't be cold in this 90 degree weather. And he walks out to the truck. Parker RUNS full speed to the front door, hits his palms on the glass and screams "NO DADDY NO Please No Daddy!!" It was pretty cute, well sad but cute. So I yell at Gordy to come back inside, because by this time there is a puddle of tears on the floor. It took everything Gordy had to take Parker seriously, it was quite hard not to laugh. Of course I have NO IDEA where my son could have gotten his dramatic streak. It surely is NOT from me, I am NEVER over dramatic. But what ever dramatic DNA Gordy and I have, I think we doubled it in Parker. Nothing is ever small with him.

No Sacred Place!

Well, our stories are not legends and folklore yet but I am confident that we will eventually be the crazy old people of the family. I have all the faith in Parker that our crazy lives will be retold in our family for generations to come. I also have no doubt that "Great Great Grandpa Gordon and Grandma Ruth" are destined to be loonies and will create much embarrassment for future generations. Of course this being my first "official blog" there is too many stories to tell and I would hate to make this very long. Here is the one story for this first blog however. This morning I wake up and start making coffee as usual (you know, the much needed first cup) and I am getting Parker's breakfast ready as usual. I walk into the dining room from our kitchen to find Parker sitting on the dining room table eating a (who knows how old) bagel he found. He was also happily sipping on a (also who knows how old) Dr. Pepper. Breakfast of champions right? Sadly enough our dining room table is no longer a sacred ground for the much needed place of inappropriate children's items. Soon there will be no safe place from the octopus arms that are attached to my child's body.