Feeling ripped off
Well I guess I do.
The Girl chimed in saying that I had made a turkey for Friday night Shabbat which I brought over to a friend's house, and we got to eat that one but she didn't because she was working. Also true. And, she went on, those horrible people ate every single bite of the turkey I made, leaving her not a single slice to taste.
Truer words were never spoken.
Then they both glared at me and told me that this was patently wrong and that their lives would never recover unless....
Yup, you guessed it.
I have to make another Thanksgiving. This one just for them.
Now, I'm not unwilling to do so. I love the turkey and if I do say so, make the world's greatest turkey. I think anyone that has ever eaten my herb-roasted turkey would agree on how good it is. I mean, we ate the entire turkey on Friday night. 4 adults, 2 huge teenage boys and one petite teen girl. Down to the frame with absolutely nothing left. It was good. Really good.
I also love stuffing, and mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes and butternut squash and roasted brussel sprouts. As do my kids. Or at least the non-picky eater. The picky eater likes the turkey and the brussel sprouts. She's not fond of the mushy foods.
I'll do it, because turkey is such an economical meat, it's good for you, and lastly it goes on sale after Thanksgiving. Heh. I'm happy to make a meal that I know my children love. I put a lot of effort into it because I know how much pleasure they take in eating it. I'm nice that way.
But deep in the recesses of my mind I worry about how these kids are going to handle Thanksgiving when I'm not around to cook it for them. Yes, I have showed them over and over how to make the meal, but when they do it it won't be the same as when I did it.
I feel like I need to make a video and document the entire meal. I think that would be a great legacy for them and for my future grandchildren, if I am lucky enough to ever meet them. But there is this big issue stopping me.
I hate my kitchen. I mean, I hate this frigging kitchen with such a passion I can barely make myself enter it without getting steamed up. It is tiny. The dishwasher is broken so there are dishes piled up waiting for a second wash. The drawers suck and fall out. The cabinets do not close. The counter is ancient and stained. There is no counter space. None. There is, between the sink and the stove, 50 1/2" of counter space (4 ft 6 in) and a good 18" is the dishrack. I mean it, no counter space. Cooking here is terribly difficult and basically I hate it so much I'm retiring from cooking.
Unless the kitchen is spotless, I can't cook there. The kitchen is spotless about 2 hours of every week, right after the cleaning lady comes. The rest of the time it's too disgusting for me to consider cooking there.
So I have to make a deal with the kids. If they want another turkey, and they do, then they have to clean the kitchen. Which they will not do. So we're at a moot point.
I will say it again. WHERE is Ty Pennington when I need him? Because God almighty, if there is anything I desperately NEED, it is a working kitchen. The one I have, it is just not possible to cook there at this juncture. And I hate this with all my heart. I want a working kitchen. Stumble It! JBlog Me