The Semi-Domestic Goddess

Guess what I did Sunday?

No wait...you'll never guess.

I, Lindsey...former spinster, spent the entire afternoon cooking, portioning out and freezing meals for me and the hubby.

I can see that you're in shock. Wordless even.

Who would have guessed that I'd turn out to be so domestic? I'm sure you all recall the cookie dough debacle of 2009 when the mixer ran amuck and splattered gobs of dough on the cabinets, counters, fridge and me.

I've come a long way baby. :)

Well, I say that but with all my leaps and bounds, sometimes my landings are still a bit shaky.

For instance, during Sunday's cooking marathon the first meal up was chicken pot pie but I realized I didn't have any unsalted butter. After much desperate digging around the fridge, I discovered I didn't have any butter whatsoever, salted or unalted, which was bad because I needed it for something else too. Certainly this new bombdiggety domestic goddess had not failed to pick up a much needed item during the morning's grocery trip? Hmmm. Ok, no worries. The grocery store is just a block away so I kept my cool and scooted out to the store. Disaster averted.

Tasty pot pie filling expertly crafted and tucked way, I got to work on the mexican soup...one of the husband's favorites, not to mention that it's his mother's recipe. And ya know, at first everything was going great. The sausage browned nicely, the veggies were tender and I was just getting ready to add the second can of Rotel when it hit me. Holy shit. These were both supposed to be original flavor but this one was CILANTRO AND LIME!! (Would not work with this dish at all.) You have got to be kidding me!! I took a deep breath. Ok...well let's just try this with one can and see how it tastes. No...nope. Shit. It NEEDS the second can.

I cuss, I throw the kitchen towel, I stub my toe...cuss some more and then finally tell the hubby to keep an eye on the stove. Back to the store I go...for the THIRD time today. I run in, grab the Rotel (original flavor thankyouverymuch) and made sure I found a cashier that I hadn't already had that day. Then I dashed home only to find my way blocked by fire trucks, ambulances and a little man waving me left for a detour.

This is bad.

I just moved here. I DON'T KNOW ANY DETOURS!!

I turn left...grudgingly and stare at the long stretch of road ahead of me. Then a brilliant idea strikes me. My phone!! I start up google maps and tell it to find my location. It stares back at me unblinking. I hit the button again. MY LOCATION. No change. I shake it violently and let loose a string of choice words that would make even a sailor blush. I was just contemplating how much satisfaction may be gained from throwing it out the window and watching it smash against the asphalt when I noticed a car coming up behind me. Ohhhhh. Maybe HE knows where he's going! Casually I pulled off to the right and pretended to read something. As soon as he passed I pulled forward and tailed him all the way to the main highway, some five miles away from the house.

Sigh.

Oh well. At least I knew where I was now.

A grand detour and a lot of cuss words later, I made it home and the second can of Rotel really made the soup. The husband was happy and the mother-in-law's recipe was not tarnished...so all in all, I guess it was worth it. But it just goes to show...linny spinster has not left the building.