Thursday, June 26, 2014

Poor Decisions at 10pm

Years ago, I realized that making any serious decisions in the late evening was always going to result in something completely devoid of intelligence and/or safety.

This is why my evenings usually consist of mimicking a potato or other inert object.

Apparently, I was feeling frisky recently, because I suddenly had an idea that I put very little thought into and, therefore, sounded like the most amazing idea in the history of ideas.

With a nearly silent throat-deep cackle, I eyed my domesticated and miniature huntress on her perch next to the window. She was faced away from me and I immediately crouched, which must have been instinctual because there was no foliage or other cover to hid behind.

As I crept toward her, I watched her ears, knowing that she would hear me long before she would turn around and look.

Her left ear twitched and curved back toward me.

My husband, who was sitting in a recliner looking at his computer, calmly stated, "Her eyes are closed."

I didn't speak, knowing that this would alert my quarry.

I slowly closed the gap between myself and the furry bundle of carnivorous instincts.

When she was within reach, I lunged forward and, in that moment, another insane idea occurred to me: I would start screaming ecstatically, like a hyperactive banshee whilst simultaneously grabbing her around her middle.

I'm sure you can imagine my little friend's reaction to this attack.

Her whole body spasmed and twisted between my grasping hands, whilst appearing to sprout additional limbs out of nowhere. She flailed and escaped my grip...

It was over in a split second and I was laughing.

Then I pulled in a hiss of breath as the pain registered in my brain.

Somehow, while that beast was flailing, one of its dozen limbs managed to slice into the skin of my palm. Even more impressive because her front limbs were declawed over five years ago...

My first addled thought after this late evening decision debacle?

That was totally worth it...

Immediately after the carnage.

She was relaxing less than ten minutes later.

This afternoon. The bleeding has stopped, but the pain still lingers on...

Monday, June 23, 2014

Chicken Fried Rice-a-Roni Fail

In my fatigued stupor this afternoon, I looked in my cabinet for anything that I could remotely call nutritious for my children and me. Or at least edible.

Okay, I'll be real. Eatable...

I was pleased to find that a box of Rice-a-Roni Fried Rice actually looked pretty good. Of course, I knew I'd have to beef it up a little, as it were, so I looked on the back for suggestions. Ooo! Chicken Fried Rice! And it didn't even look gross!

Bonus! The recipe called for two blended eggs to be added in the final moments and I just so happened to have two eggs from my last carton hogging the space set aside for my new carton. It was more than just dumb luck. It was serendipitous... It was divine! I forgot my weariness and set about cooking up this little miracle.

There was a tiny (I mean TINY) picture on the back of the box of the finished result. Oh, I thought to myself, you can even see the little bits of egg mixed in and it doesn't look horrifying! MA-GI-CAL!

So, I carefully followed all the directions. I was a little concerned that my chicken wasn't thawed completely when I put it in, but I reasoned that 15-20 minutes boiling away with the rice would fix that toot sweet!

When the 15-20 minutes were up, I opened the lid and looked at the beautiful miracle of foodness that was Chicken Fried Rice-a-Roni... All I had to do was put in the eggs. They were already mixed and ready to pour in. With all the confidence a recipe on a small cardboard box could give me, I carefully poured in the egg and proceeded to gently stir it around.

Much to my dismay, it didn't congeal into fluffy bits of scrambled egg...

It was sticking to the rice and noodles...


It was forming a slimy, yellow coating all over my beautiful fried rice...

I continued to stir, foolishly certain that at some point the egg would separate and magically become lovely bits of egg...

It was not to be.

The slimy eventually cooked away, but I was left with Chicken Fried Clump-a-Roni.

If I had poured a bottle of glue into my pan, it wouldn't have looked any less attractive... 

That little bit of white you can see almost in the center was the only bit I could verify was actually egg...

As far as taste goes, it wasn't bad at all. In fact, my son stated quite enthusiastically,

"We should have this EVERY day!"

Luckily, I could let him down easy. I had only bought one box.


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