Obviously, she likes trouble

Since starting this week’s Monday Dare, I’ve only lost two fingers. By two fingers, I mean two small slivers of skin, but you know what, I bet it hurts the same.

A few readers expressed concern that Cal wasn’t getting enough nutrition in my home. And by a few readers, I mean Jennifer Clark. Jen has made it her one and only life mission to make sure that somebody in this house is getting proper nutrition.

She left me this comment:

“Dear Elizabeth- OK, you just hit one of my hot buttons. YOU MUST LEARN TO COOK!
The health and safety of you, your family and the Free World depends on this!!!
Get your ass up to Mayberry for some cooking lessons.
A woman your age unable to feed herself…..OY!”

I ignored her offer. Who brings a complete stranger into their home for cooking lessons? Also, what the hell did she mean by someone my age? I’m thirty years YOUNG, bitch!

Then she sent me an email. Before I even opened it, it looked like trouble. Nothing entitled “Girl, you need some help!” can be that good. I clicked it open anyway.

Bless her, she sent a recipe attached to a “P.S. I’m totally serious about the cooking lessons.”

Well, lady, if you’re looking for trouble, you just found it. I responded:

 
“To my favorite homie, Jen- You are da bomb. Imma come over, forrealz.”

Seriously, that’s what I wrote. I figured, if she wants me in her home and around her children, she should probably get to know the real me.

And the rest of our exchange:

Jennifer: January?

(Oh my god, this woman is really offering me cooking lessons. Sweet Jesus, jackpot!)

Me: Do you have fire insurance? If yes, let’s get this road to disaster started.You might want to get a needle and some thread in case you need to stitch me up. I will bring a large amount of cheap and tasteless liquor in the hopes of getting you drunk so we don’t actually have to cook. Also, I hate to cook.

Jennifer: I have Hello Kitty bandaids.

Me: I told my husband about this and he asked me if I invited myself over. I told him “yes” and that you really resisted but you eventually said “yes” because I offered you booze and a lawn gnome.

Jennifer: Please don’t bring a lawn gnome. I’d hate to hurt your feeling by smashing it with a hammer.

Me: Hide your good furniture. I like to put shit under my jacket as I’m leaving.

Folks, she STILL wants me to come over. And, I’m going. And, I’m bringing her a lawn gnome. And, she’s going to like it.

Have you ever been over to a “stranger’s” house for any reason? Please do not tell me if it includes nudity and an exchange of money or other goods. I am very innocent.
photo via blueq.com

Monday Dare: Apocalypse a’comin’

Every Monday, I’m picking from the List of Things to Try, Places to Go, Possible Acts that Help and Possible Fun to Have. It’s a list I made before The Project started and I’m still adding to it. If you have suggestions, please, feel free to throw them. I’m calling the list my Monday Dares, as I get overwhelmed just looking at the words “challenge” or “goal.”

This week: I will learn to cook. Surely, this is a sign of the Apocalypse. Run, bitches, run.

Sigh.

See? I haven’t even started and I’m already in despair. This is probably a bad sign.

You know what else is a bad sign?

When you boil noodles to make spaghetti and you run upstairs to take the curlers out of your hair and your daughter tells you she smells fire. Why do children like to make shit up?

You tell her it’s probably some nefarious vagrants outside burning leaves but then your smoke detector goes off. God, Harv, seriously? Didn’t I ask you to change those batteries?

You unroll your curlers leisurely, ignoring the sound of the alarm and send a nasty stinky-eye outside.

Lordy, can’t those vagrants take their pyrotechic hobby somewhere else? Their little shenanigans are setting off MY smoke alarm.

Then, you remember all your windows are closed. Wait…..

Oh, yeah, maybe it’s time to check on that spaghetti.

Folks, I can’t distinguish a cheese grater from a teapot but trust me when I tell you, break those noodles in half before you slip them into the pot. Noodles hanging out of pot= fire hazard.

Also, if your husband is on a business trip and you text him to make sure you have some sort of home or fire insurance and he only texts back “yes” without even asking what is going on, it means that you’re not fooling anyone with your shitty cooking skills, so it’s time to buck up and learn to cook.

Sigh.

Any ideas for a quick and easy first recipe I can master?

Please don’t list it if it requires a knife (butterfingers), stove (I like hair spray), water (slip and fall hazard), freezer (frostbite), oven (gets hot, y’all), fork (pointy) or oil (splatter-y).

Answer me this: If I’m learning to cook this week and I want to jump off a bridge, are these two things related?

photo via blueq.com