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Friday, March 16, 2012

What's Important?

I'm sure no one labors under the misapprehension that I'm a good housewife, but in case you thought I had this under control, here are some reminders.

I can't grow things. Ever.

I also cannot line up pictures, apparently. But you get the point. Anyway, these don't look so bad, do they? Well, they're supposed to be flowers. They've completely stopped growing and the one in the pink turned yellow. Sigh. I don't know. I water them. I put them out in the sunlight. It's not like they're high maintenance. They're in a two-inch pot. Not that hard to take care of. Fail.

Even funnier (now, not at the time), I can cook, but I make awful, horrible mistakes all the time as I grow in that department. Now, I'm not talking about last night's pork, which was awful and drowned in salt (though maybe I should be.) No, I'm talking about how I set a fire in my oven. A real fire. Flames. Lots of flames.

I was broiling lobster tails, and it started smelling funny and I opened the door to a cloud of smoke, flames licking the top of the broiler. Awesome. I don't even remember how I got it off the shelf. I probably just reached in there with a towel (because who needs oven mitts, am I right?) and moved it onto the open door. Then I stared at it. And stared at it. And stared. At it.

I freaked out, but froze, completely useless. What are you supposed to do for a grease fire, I asked myself. Not water, right? Salt? Sand? No. I don't want to ruin the lobster tails! They're expensive! (Great thinking.)

So...I took a video. Haha. Nevermind. I was so discombobulated that I accidentally took a video of the fish sticks still in the oven at the time. Nothing incriminating! So, now there's no proof, can't pin it on me!

Other than the fact, of course, that my kids' new favorite game is playing in their little kitchen...setting the oven on fire. Great.

But, these aren't the important things. (Thank God.)

The important thing is that I can throw a rocking, impromptu house party with a million (or five) three year olds just because. It started with hopscotch...our friends came to join us, then the neighborhood kids. Then we rode bikes, and in a shining moment of clarity, I thought to bring everyone popsicles. Of course, being kids, they don't have any boundaries, so we all ended up inside where the girls rocked out to club music (ie: They Might Be Giants).

While the boys stayed home and cooked them a glorious meal.

(I'm also a bad photographer, but you get the idea.) It was a fun day that didn't require plants or broiling. Win all around. Play to your strengths. The kids don't care if you can't cook or clean or grow things. Lucky for me.

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