Well hello again, awesome Moxie-Dude readers!
We’re off to the races with another Monday. And even though it’s common knowledge that Mondays suck, I have to say that I’m kinda glad we’re being bestowed with its presence because it means that last week is now “passé compose”. Not that it was a bad week. It was just an eye opener in that I got to open my eyes and see exactly how grown-up my youngest daughter is becoming.
If this is your first time here, you should probably know that I have four kids. This is an unintentionally-on-purpose aspect of my life. Although the scales tip slightly more on the “unintentionally” side on account that I didn’t know what I was doing when I was in the “family planning” phase of my life.
As unintentional as it all turned out, I wouldn’t change a thing.
Okay now that you’re up to speed on THAT, you should probably also know that I have a disability in one of the rooms of my house. Some people call it the kitchen. I call it the disaster zone.
Despite this though, I’m a mom and every once in a while there’s just no getting around the fact that my kids often get hungry. Usually around meal times but in actuality, ALL. THE. TIME.
This is because: Teenagers.
With that said, sometimes I have no choice but to walk into said disaster zone with the intention of, well, cooking. I found myself in the middle of one such occasion last week, and yes, it was dinnertime.
Anything that takes more than one ingredient usually gets messed up.
This is not really a “confession” on account that my kids KNOW THIS. (But still, saying it out loud does relieve my soul somehow.)
So after asking my youngest daughter what she’d like me to do with the potatoes – where any option past boiled ventures into adventures of the I-can’t-be-held-responsible-for-how-this-turns-out kind – she answered, “mashed”. She also followed up with some very strict instructions:
“Mash the potatoes but DO NOT ADD ANYTHING TO THEM UNTIL I GET BACK.”
As she walked out of the kitchen leaving me by myself with the potato masher in hand, I tried really hard to get excited about the fact that all of my kids are responsible individuals who know their way around a kitchen.
Unfortunately my hopeful excitement was overshadowed by confusion because I have no idea how that happened.