Sometimes, you just have a bad day, ya know?
And it turns out that the exploded can of soda you found in your freezer on Tuesday was just the little tut tut, looks like rain cloud on the horizon because Friday the deluge hit.
You get up at 6:30 to start cooking for a luncheon and everything seems fine.
Until you realize, after you have put the batter into the little silicon mini cake thingie mind you, that you forgot a rather important ingredient. And if you have never tried to remove uncooked batter from one of those silicon thingies you haven’t really lived.
But you persevere and fix the batter and get it into the oven. And when it finishes cooking you take it out and you really think you’ve let it cool long enough only you’re all thumbs and drop it. Now the good news is that those silicon thingies won’t break when they hit the floor. But flourless chocolate cake? That stuff splatters absolutely everywhere.
So you clean it all up and don’t panic because hey, the luncheon is not until noon and you have plenty of time. You start over and it is all moving along just fine and you’ve got everything under control until you get a reminder text that there is actually a meeting an hour before the luncheon. So you have a minor melt down. But then remember that your kids are watching and you really want them to learn how to handle pressure better than you so you take a deep breathe, apologize to the kids for the minor melt down and enlist some help.
Lo and behold it all gets done and you’re ready to leave, not just on time but a few minutes early even. The meeting goes fine and the luncheon is great and by the time you get everything cleaned up you realize you better hustle because you are also committed to cooking some chicken legs for another gathering happening in a few hours.
You run to the store on your way home to pick up some chips and dip that you also need to send with the chicken legs and while you’re there you get on the phone to make arrangements for the two children who are not playing in volleyball games and now you really better hustle if those legs are gonna get cooked in time. Because you’re pretty smart you call ahead to the house and have the oven preheated. You get home and toss those chicken legs with olive oil and Italian season and pop them in the oven. You’re cutting it close time wise but you’ll make it.
The chicken gets done and because you’re in a hurry you try to cover it with aluminum foil only you’re all thumbs again and the pan slips off the counter and the bad news is that 9×13 glass pans
don’t bounce the same way those silicon thingies do. And hot 9×13 glass dishes shatter into all the pieces and chicken legs and glass and olive oil make one heck of a mess.
But you get it cleaned up, toss some of the luncheon leftovers together, put it into another 9×13 pan and sprinkle it with cheese. Because you have a really great friend she meets you in the driveway and takes the casserole and gets it to where it needs to go.
You get to where you need to go only a little bit late but things seem to be settling back down and all is well. You get done and pop the address of the girls volleyball game into your phone gps and head over to watch the rest of their game. On the way there there is so much construction on the interstate that you miss your exit and have to cross over the bridge, get off the interstate in order to turn around and get back on in the opposite direction. You make the last game and a half and there is much rejoicing as both girls win their matches.
Life is sweet and on the way home you’re relaying the story of your day and in the midst of telling it you remember that you didn’t send the chips and dip. Which isn’t a big deal really except that when you get home you can’t find the chips and dip. Like anywhere.
And that’s when you decide to pick up a five dollar pizza and call it a day.
Saturday morning life stays interesting
when a brand new bottle of soy sauce gets knocked off its place in the pantry and hits the floor. You might not be the one responsible for breaking it but at this point it’s just guilt by association.
But it’s ok because while you’re cleaning out the pantry you find a bag from the grocery store where one of your kids, who shall remain nameless to protect their innocent laziness, had put it without removing the container of spinach dip and boy wouldn’t that have been a special smell if it had sat for a few more hours?
By Sunday everything seems fine but you still move with lots of extra caution as you chop veggies and prepare for lunch. You even manage a smallish nap.
And here you are greeting Monday with a tentative hello and a cup of tea.
The Common Place 