Last night I was making girl-cheese sandwiches for the kids for dinner. Yeah, that is what we call them, because that is what I thought they were called until about Jr. high age. And yeah, it was a really uncool moment of revelation...
Anyways, I was grilling up some sandwiches, doing the multi-tasking mom thing...sandwiches sizzling, pouring drinks and cutting up pears to go with it-when I realized I had forgotten the sandwiches a little too long. Couldn't interrupt my pace, so I flipped them over and continued with the pears.
Hubby came over and observed they were burnt, one more-so than the others. As I turned around answering that I was aware of the problem, I watched in horror as he quickly scooped up the sandwich and flipped it into the garbage can-in an engineering/efficient sort of way.
"Nooooo!" I screeched, "I was going to fix that...it is all under control!" He was pretty amused, "how so?" he asked. "I gently coax the piece of bread from the melted cheese and get out a fresh slice of bread..good as new!"
"So you do this often, do you?" Hubby asked, in that highly amused voice. "Yes, I have a system. I almost always burn them, as did my mother before me! ...It is tradition!!" -the last part said in my best EverAfter imitation. He is laughing now over this sad truth that I am my mother in so many ways. Now I am muttering and clucking because he moved the order of sandwiches on the griddle, the lower right sandwich was all cheddar-'cause that is what Josie likes. I mock-glare at hubby and complain that he mixed them all up.
"You threw off my groove!" I throw out in my best Emperor's new grove way. Hubby is retreating from the kitchen, chuckling over my hopeless DNA. From the safety of the dining room he asks, "did she really always burn them?"
"yes", I answer,"almost every time...and she didn't get out new bread, if we were lucky she scraped some of the burnt parts into the garbage. I would eat dinner thinking "this would be really good if it wasn't so burnt...I can almost taste how good it is.." Hubby is now howling.
Dinner and a show! I aim to please, after all.