Ok, so I didn’t actually call. But it was touch and go there for a second. A grease fire would have made us the worst host family ever.
I have something to confess: I don’t read directions. I’m not even good at following directions. My dad used to say, “when all else fails, go to the trash can, get out the directions, and read them.” I’ve built my life around those words of wisdom. Some days work out better than others.
Tonight I made a nutritious dinner for the kids of fried chicken tenders, french fries, and green beans. Before anyone starts whining about childhood obesity or cholesterol you should know that I actually cut the chicken and the fries myself. I also breaded the chicken myself, so it’s not as bad as it sounds.
The girls were upstairs helping me in the kitchen. The goal of this exchange program is to show them what our life is really like. This is not at all what our life is really like. Usually, I make dinner while Dallas (if he is home) surfs websites about the Army and TCU, the twinkies run matchbox cars on the floor around me, and the twins stare at their iPods downstairs. We’re putting on airs.
I have a fry daddy. The fry daddy has been used exactly one time since it was purchased six months ago. Tonight as I was adding the oil it occurred to me that there was probably a fill line or some directions I should follow. I shrugged off that thought and filled the oil almost to the brim.
Once it heated up I added a couple of handfuls of the fries.
In less than 20 seconds oil bubbled up and spilled all over the counter, down the cabinets, and in a big puddle on the floor. Taryn and one of the exchange girls panicked. I tried to be cool.
I’M THE MOM. I CAN HANDLE THIS.
Unplug, grab towels, try not to cry.
It was a close one. The girls got a good laugh. I managed to stop shaking enough to sip some vino and get myself together.
Seriously, I’m the worst mom ever.
This was also evidenced toward the end of dinner. Jackson turned to our guest and asked her if she was ready to play the Wii with him again.
I said, “No, Jackson, no more video games tonight.”
He replied, “Ok, Mommy thanks for taking such good care of me. I love you.”
Stop laughing, it could have happened.
Actually he looked me right in the eye and said, “I wasn’t talking to you.”
Lift glass, swallow wine, try not to cry.