Category Archives: food

What Me Do I Smell?

When one of my kids was a toddler, she struggled with syntax.

Yea, only one of them.  The other five were perfectly,  grammatically correct from birth.

She’d crinkle up her little toddler nose, sniff as loudly as a two year old could sniff with boogies plugging her little air passages,  and ask, What me do I smell?”

Of course, for the past three decades, my hubby and I have rarely asked each other, “Hey, what’s that smell?” like normal people.  We always wrinkle up our growing adult noses and ask, “What me do I smell?”

One day, me smelled something awful.

Being an experienced mother, I quickly narrowed it down to new plastic, even though I was at the end of the hallway and had only sniffed the air a few times. Yea, moms have amazing skills, don’t they?

Also, being an experienced mother, I was pretty sure I sniffed the danger from a distance faster than the plastic-burning culprit who had not yet asked themselves the question of the year, “What me do I smell?”

Oh, ya’ wanna’ know how come I knew it was new plastic?  Simple deduction.  The newer the item, the more likely it will be broken, dropped, cracked or burned alive.

I have other powers of deduction that would make Sherlock proud. If the smell occurs late in the evening, I know something fell onto the heating element in the dishwasher ‘cuz that’s when we run the dishwasher.  If this smell occurs during the day, I know something fell onto the burner.  The one of the four that is on, of course.  Plastic never touches cold burners. That rule just goes without saying.

However, since I have mostly adult children living in my home,  I left the smell to the culprit. Several moments after me smelled something , me heard exclamations from the kitchen and me knew danger had finally been spotted.

little house 001 
I woke up to this love letter.

When the kids were younger, they left notes that said things like,  “You’re the best Mom in the whole wide world!”

Nowadays, notes have to do with the grocery list,  errands and confessions.

Like this note.

Like the splashes?  Hmmm….do ya’ think it was another child using another burner?

Yer’ so right!

little house 003

I also woke up to this.

little house 007

And this. 

little house 008

In case you need to see that up close, here it is.

The offending adult child graciously offered to clean it up, because my kids are perfect like that, but I stopped this person. I needed pictures.  After all, I have full blogging rights, right?

Right!

Me warned them in my very first blog.

“Anything you say and do, can be blogged against you.”

Jealous you don’t have kids that cook for you?

You should be.

This is what has happened to

my mixer

my eggs

my microwave pan

my cutting board

my burners

my spices

Not jealous yet?

Now you will be. ‘Cuz look what all that practice produced.

Jon cooked Thanksgiving

Bethany cooked Thanksgiving

Grace cooked Thanksgiving

Jon’s Bread

Not’cher MinnesOtan Fud

Husband Catcher Bars

You should be jealous.  Now, let your kids in the kitchen and burn something.

Just remember these magic words,  “What me do I smell?”

 

How to Eat a Hamburger

Choreographed by food expert, Brookelyn.
Pick up hamburger with both chubby, dimpled hands.
Hold it upside down to make the calories fall out.
A good habit to encourage for later in life when there will be concern about your figger.
Take huge bites to make cute gopher cheeks.
Check the toppings.


Lick off some ketchup.

Carefully balance the burger and take a few bites when Gramma tells you to.
When your mouth is full take a drink of your milk
to ensure leaving the maximum amount of floaties per fluid ounce.
Check the toppings again.
Lick off more ketchup.
If you get enough on your face, Gramma will think it is cute and
she won’t wipe it off, especially if it is on the tip of your nose.
Take a few more bites, wrap up the burger and tell Gramma “du”.
Translation, “Done.”