How to panic to some purpose
Feb. 5th, 2010 06:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Step one: Instruct daughters on the proper rinsing of quinoa. Start it to cook.
Step two: Turn on the oven to heat up, so that when the leftover stew is found to warm up, it's ready to go.
Step three: Look in the fridge for leftover stew.
Step four: Fail to find it.
Step five: Fire off a panicked IM to husband asking where the stew went.
Step six: Offend said husband because he had no reason to know that stew was for a meal, and has been eating it most days this week for lunch. (Sorry, Piet.)
Step seven: Madly turn out the upstairs freezer in an attempt to find things that will make the quinoa, by now half-cooked, palatable to two little kids.
Step eight: Concurrent with step seven, madly search internet for quinoa recipes. Discover that most of them call for spices that a) aren't in the house, and b) aren't palatable to aforementioned children. (Cumin, I'm looking at YOU.)
Step nine: Decide that quinoa will end up tasting like spaghetti for tonight, and it'll like it.
Step ten: Throw chopped green pepper, some garlic, chopped celery, some salt and curry powder, and a cup or so of frozen spaghetti sauce, into a wok to cook, at various points over the course of ten minutes.
Step eleven: Lament the lack of onions at the bottom of the fridge. Even sprouting ones would have been fine. Decide that whatever-this-is smells yummy without them.
Step Twelve: Serve to children, who profess to like it while not eating much.
Step Thirteen: attempt to get younger child to eat one reasonably-sized forkful of whatever-this-is.
Step Fourteen: Run bath for younger child, who proceeded to throw up what little she'd eaten. Meanwhile, curse self for attempting to force-feed an almost-four-year-old with the willpower of an overworked mule.
Step Fifteen: Write livejournal post, realizing midway through that there's company coming in less than an hour and the house is a total disaster. Decide to finish post anyway.
Step two: Turn on the oven to heat up, so that when the leftover stew is found to warm up, it's ready to go.
Step three: Look in the fridge for leftover stew.
Step four: Fail to find it.
Step five: Fire off a panicked IM to husband asking where the stew went.
Step six: Offend said husband because he had no reason to know that stew was for a meal, and has been eating it most days this week for lunch. (Sorry, Piet.)
Step seven: Madly turn out the upstairs freezer in an attempt to find things that will make the quinoa, by now half-cooked, palatable to two little kids.
Step eight: Concurrent with step seven, madly search internet for quinoa recipes. Discover that most of them call for spices that a) aren't in the house, and b) aren't palatable to aforementioned children. (Cumin, I'm looking at YOU.)
Step nine: Decide that quinoa will end up tasting like spaghetti for tonight, and it'll like it.
Step ten: Throw chopped green pepper, some garlic, chopped celery, some salt and curry powder, and a cup or so of frozen spaghetti sauce, into a wok to cook, at various points over the course of ten minutes.
Step eleven: Lament the lack of onions at the bottom of the fridge. Even sprouting ones would have been fine. Decide that whatever-this-is smells yummy without them.
Step Twelve: Serve to children, who profess to like it while not eating much.
Step Thirteen: attempt to get younger child to eat one reasonably-sized forkful of whatever-this-is.
Step Fourteen: Run bath for younger child, who proceeded to throw up what little she'd eaten. Meanwhile, curse self for attempting to force-feed an almost-four-year-old with the willpower of an overworked mule.
Step Fifteen: Write livejournal post, realizing midway through that there's company coming in less than an hour and the house is a total disaster. Decide to finish post anyway.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-05 11:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-06 12:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-06 01:51 am (UTC)Your kids don't like cumin? Sad! Not even in a quesedilla?
(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-06 05:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-06 01:54 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-06 02:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-06 05:17 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-08 12:22 am (UTC)