You Can Call Me June
I have cooked dinner at home three days in a row. Three days. That's like a record for this year, or something. The kids aren't liking it so much. They were whining yesterday that they wanted Burger King, that I told them we could get Burger King, that they didn't like what I made, blah, blah, blah. What I had actually told them was maybe, but to a kid, you may as well say yes than maybe, because that's what it seems to mean to them. I remember thinking the same thing when I was a kid. It's time they learned maybe means maybe, not yes, not no.
The dinner plan tonight is supposed to be sushi. Now, I don't know how to make sushi. Hell, I don't even know exactly what sushi is. When I was younger, it was supposedly raw fish, but then I come to find out that's not what it is, or that we Americans did our typical renaming of things or something like that. So I don't know what the hell sushi is now. A friend of mine who had a Japanese mother once told me sushi is this stuff with rice and that raw fish was sashimi. So I'm all confused about the sushi, and to be honest, I'm a little nervous about the prospect of having it for dinner, even though I hear some people will go into hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt to eat it. People go into debt and ruin their lives for crack too, but you don't see me doing that.
As I just searched the web, I saw all kinds of places to buy sushi kits. Then I found this site where there was a nifty demo of a cool sushi chef, He-Day, making and explaining sushi. So now I know that I have even eaten sushi before but not nagiri-sushi which, I think, is the one that contains raw fish. And sashimi is raw fish cut into slices, so that's your and my sushi lesson for today. And now that I know all about sushi, I am quite certain I will not be making it myself tonight. Maybe another time. He-Day made it look easy enough that I think I could manage to do it myself. So when I have time to run around and buy ingredients, I'll try it.
There's wasabi in some of those kits. That just makes me laugh. It's my favorite of the stupid Bud commercials.
Anyway, the kids might just get their Burger King tonight, but since I don't really like BK, I may still be making my own dinner. It's not quite the same as making dinner for the whole family, but hey, I'm cooking.
Cooking isn't all I've been doing. I have been working around the house too, and I've been toting kids around to their various activities. You know, I don't remember June having to drive Wally and Beaver to their activities. Those kids always walked. Where the hell did they live that they could walk all the time? That's not fair. I'm just glad we're within walking distance of both the elementary and middle schools, though that hasn't done me much good with Booie still unable to walk that distance, uphill and up stairs the whole way to boot. So I have spent much time driving around. I wish there was a better way.
Among the stupid/clumsy things I've accomplished while playing the good stay at home mom, I burned my forehead with the curling iron while trying to look presentable to drive the kids to school. See what happens when I try not to be a slob? I get a big-ass red burn mark on my head. I was walking around this morning with an ice cube pressed to my head, trying to get my lazy-butt kids in gear to go to school. Not fun. And guess what? I get to go out this weekend too. We have a big dinner event, and I can't get out of it, so I'm going to have to devise some way to cover this burn mark on my head that just so happens to be in the very spot of my forehead that is typically visible with my hairstyle. Karma must have been pissed by my memo yesterday, which means I better watch out with the beer this year. Last year I sprayed beer all over the table and John's cousin in particular when John decided my having a mouthful of fluid was the perfect time to say something incredibly funny. This isn't a super-fancy dinner, but people do dress nicely. I think I ruined his cousin's tie. Maybe I just won't drink anything at all that night. Karma has it out for me.
There are just too many stories like that in my history. I am a bumbling idiot. I will never be like June Cleaver, but then, I don't want to be.
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One Year Ago Today:
