Um…. no

I decided yesterday that I was going to make a traditional corn beef and cabbage today for St. Patty’s. My mom always made us one and I realized I have never made one for my family.

Since I’ve already proclaimed my love for Siri, I decided to let her help me with my family dinner.

I clicked on Siri’s button and spoke, “Corn beef and cabbage recipe.”

Siri listened and typed, “Porn beef and cabbage recipe.”

Um…

1.  I don’t even want to think about what that recipe entails.

2.  I’m now questioning Siri and wonder what she really does with all her time.

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Not even technically

Everyday I require that my children each fruit with breakfast and lunch and veggies with lunch and dinner.  Trust me.  I do not live under any delusion that my children will come close to the FDA government daily maximum requirements, but my hope is, with all the nagging, they will at least cross the minimum finish line.  Does anyone hit the maximum?  And, if they do, do they own stock in toilet paper?  I mean, come on.  That’s a lot of fiber in one day.

Nearly every meal resembles some form of this conversation…

“I’m done.”

“Did you have fruit?”

Silence from the child.

The Look‘ (you know the one) from me.

“Fine,” the child grumbles as their drag their feet across the kitchen.

Today was no different.  About an hour after he had eaten lunch, T-Dog announced that he was hungry and made a beeline for the chips.  I stopped him mid stride, asking him if he had eaten his fruit at lunch.  He replied ‘no,’ mumbled something under his breath, then decided he wasn’t so hungry after all.

Not even ten minutes later, my super-duper mom radar picked up the distinct sound of a bag opening.  I came around the kitchen corner to find T-Dog guiltily reaching into a cabinet.

“I told you to have fruit.”

“I am.  I’m having strawberries.”

“Nice try buddy, but strawberry Twizzlers are not a fruit.”

Mom- 1

T-Dog – 0

Daily Fruit Servings – 0

Who are these people?

So I’m strolling leisurely through the grocery store the other day.  Scratch that, I barreling through the aisles, throwing things into my cart, attempting to beat a land speed record because I LOATHE being at the grocery store.  It is a horrible place.  You move the same item at least six times just to get it home.  It’s a waste of time and so flipping expensive.  I wish I could do an I Dream of Jeannie head bob and have my shelves restocked, but, alas, no one has created that technology yet…

Anyway, I’m cruising down the aisle, navigating around the sale items and Halloween displays when I am stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of this.

 

Now I understand being an animal lover.  I love my puppy and my old-decrepid cats.  I consider them family members.  But subjecting your pet to this seems like cruel and unusual punishment.

 

He’s definitely not my father.  Heck, he’s probably not anyone’s father.  He’s most likely neutered.

I get the cut necker-chiefs and even the fancy beds, but this just seems over the top!

Plus, without opposable thumbs, Fido, I mean Yoda, could never hold his light saber.

I mean, really, who are these ridiculous people who would waste their hard earned money on silly get-ups for their pet?!?!?

 

Um…. Wait.  Nevermind.  Disregard.

 

What’s for dinner????

 

 

Umm, well, I’m hoping it’s not salmonella….

While I love to bake, I’m not really a fan of cooking.  I dread thinking about what to make for dinner.  Luckily for me, my husband loves to cook dinner and gladly takes over the chore if he’s home to do it.  He cooks.  I clean.  We’re both happy.

We live in Nebraska.  We eat meat with most of our meals.  I think it’s a requirement to be a resident here.  (That and love of the Huskers.  No worry.  That blog will be coming.  It’s almost football season.)  Unfortunately, I always forget to pull out the meat early enough for it to thaw in the refrigerator.  I have become a master of thawing meat quickly in hot water.  My husband has another….technique.

I frequently come home to find this.

To the untrained eye, this might look like a forgotten towel on the front porch, but you’d be wrong.

Beef….it’s what’s for dinner.  And for dessert, we might be visiting the local ER….

 

I’ll be that lady!

So I make a weekly trip to the grocery store like most of America.  I loathe grocery shopping.  You put the item in the cart, take it out, put in on the register, put it in the bag, you load the bags in the cart, push to the car, put the bags in the car, take them out of the car, carry them in the house, take the food out and put it in your pantry.  I move the same item a gazillion times!  But I know it has to be done, so I try to be effiecient.

I prepare all week.  I have a system.  The list is on the refridgerator door.  We make notes of things we ran out of or extras we would like to have.  I go through the ads and find the price matches.  Yes, I’m that lady you don’t want to get behind so say, “That is .99 a pound at…”  I place all the price matches together in my cart and on the register belt to make it easier.  I presort my groceries by food, non-food, cans, boxes, cold, fruits, vegs, chips, and bread to make it easier for the poor person I’m going to inflict my massive haul on.  Oh, and I use recyclable bags, so I’m that lady too.

What I hate most about grocery shopping is that no matter how well you prepare, you always miss something.  Sometimes it was in your head, but not on the list, you run out of something important the minute you get home, you forgot a birthday or occassion, or something breaks.  Whatever the case, I find the mid-week trip back to the store usually creates a fairly embarrassing situation, because the two random things you go back to get are always an odd combition.  Today is case in point….

Thursdays I make hamburgers for my family.  There is usually always a sporting practice of some kind on Thursday night and hamburgers is something I can make and whoever is out can eat it when they get home.  I looked in the fridge this morning and I did not have hamburger to make patties.  I almost always have hamburger, so I didn’t get any.  Apparently there is NOT an endless supply of hamburger that magically appears in my freezer.  Then my husband sends this text…”Need toilet seat for the downstairs bathroom”. I don’t even want to know why we need a new toilet seat.

So now I’m going to be that lady.  That lady with the uncomfortable with hamburger and a toilet seat in the check out today.  I’ll be that lady the checkout girl talks about in the break room….  “And then this lady came through with hamburger and a toilet seat!”  Lucky me!

What is your funniest check out combination?