Yesterday was my first day back to work after a week-long vacation. I had always thought that Mondays were rough, but this sure won the roughness-contest hands down. It also doesn’t help that the hubby is still out of work, so I had to get ready for work while he was still fast asleep in bed. I may or may not have been slightly jealous…
Okay, yes, I was.
But right then and there, I decided to make a pact that I would not live for the weekends, as I so often do. I was going to make today count! And I was going to head off to work and then come back home and then enjoy the day I had left.
Sounds like a good plan, right?
Part of this plan included my making a home-cooked meal for supper, as vacation and my illness had kept me out of the kitchen for nearly two weeks. I imagined myself leisurely making my way about the kitchen, making sure that everything was just so… and also feeling so incredibly relaxed at the same time.
But apparently, I wasn’t meant to make dinner last night. I just didn’t realize this until I had started.
It actually all started with a pound of very bony fish. The supermarket sign had said that the salmon fillets were boneless. Ha! Yeah, sure. These fish were so bony, I think they could have walked off by themselves if given the chance.
They also smelt like fish. You know, that really bad, over-powering smell that says, “this is anything but fresh.” Even the cats looked over-whelmed.
I took one whiff of that pound of salmon and then ran my fingers over the bony flesh and then chucked it all into the trash can.
At this point, my hubby looked very worried, as he was quite hungry. But I assured him that everything was okay, because there was also a pound of chicken breasts in the fridge. I would just bake them up and maybe top them off with BBQ sauce.
“Or…” Nate said, quite enthusiastically. “How about you make fried chicken?”
I think my mouth dropped a bit. My eyes widened. Maybe my fists clenched. Seriously? This was my first day back to work, I had just done laundry and tidied the kitchen, and now he wanted me to make him fried chicken? Did he not realize that I’ve never even made fried chicken before?
Nate instantly knew that he had stepped into treacherous territory… And I instantly knew that my horrified face was a bit overly dramatic. After all, we are on the same team.
So I attempted to make him fried chicken. And learned the hard way that fried chicken is best made when the chicken pieces have skin on them. It’s also best when you remember to dip the chicken into a milk or egg bath before coating it in the flour mixture.
Or else you’ll just have a mess, which you will toss into the trash can with a pound of very smelly fish… and then you will drive with your husband to KFC so that he can get his fried chicken.
So, yeah, maybe not the stress-free evening I had envisioned. But on the bright side, tonight is pasta night. So I have high hopes for today. 🙂
(And if you haven’t done so yet, don’t forget to leave a comment on my Hip-T post to qualify for a free give-away! The winner will be posted on Friday). 🙂