So, I know most of you probably come here to be inspired by my Amazing Mom Powers. You are encouraged by the fact that I have it all together. You are probably hoping that just by hanging out here with me you will become Super Mom too.
Well, my friends, I have to confess…I’m not [quite] perfect.
The other morning Apollo requested waffles for breakfast. Waffles in our house mean EGGO because…I don’t have time to spend two hours slaving over a hot waffle iron and we aren’t exactly IHOP here.
So, I toasted the waffles and poured on the syrup. I squeezed the bottle a bit due to the thick consistency of the syrup. Much to my surprise syrup gushed out of the container leaving Syrup Spatter on the kitchen walls and counters. It looked like a crime scene from a bad teen slasher movie.
How did the syrup get so runny?
If you are an especially keen observer you might notice that I poured a large amount of soy sauce on my son’s waffles.
And the counter.
And the wall.
In my defense…
The containers look very similar.
Especially if you get by on 12 minutes of sleep a night.
Who Wants Chocolate Milk?!
You might remember that grace in our house right now (this summer) looks like a lot of outings, convenience foods and time spent swimming. While shopping last week I grabbed a rare treat…
I poured some for Apollo for breakfast and took a sip. It tasted different than what I remembered. It was somehow richer and sweeter. Oh well, I wasn’t planning to drink it anyway…
Avi had some and when Jubilee came in for breakfast I told her to help herself to some chocolate milk. She walked over to the fridge and then came back saying…
“Um, mom…? Why did you buy chocolate ice cream mix?”
What in the world was she talking about?
Oh, just this.
Her face says it all….but to be fair… this looks like a carton of chocolate milk, does it not? Especially if you chose to ignore the ice cream cones on the front of the container…
So there you have it.
This is my life, my friends.
Now can I interest anyone in a cup of Soft Serve Mix?SaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSave
Ouch. But I love Eggo waffles–can’t get ’em here in Germany–my husband got me a waffle iron and I’ve been following an old Fannie Farmer cookbook recipe (c. 1988). Whenever I’m back in that paradise of cities, oh my hometown, New York, I buy Eggo waffles. But I bake them! Or rather, under the broiler for a few carefully-watched moments. They are crispier that way. Great with butter and heavily sugared café au lait, my vice of choice.
I love Eggo waffles too. I gave my two waffle irons too Goodwill when I realized it was taking me TWO HOURS to cook waffles for everyone. When we had more kids at home we always cooked them under the broiler 🙂
Whenever I make Eggos under the broiler, I think to the old list you used to have on the sidebar…. You Know You Have a Large Family When… In fact, I think of that list any time I have to buy socks or toothbrushes or schedule dentist appointments for that matter…
So true…I really ought to revive that list…
1. That is the funniest thing I’ve read in awhile!
2. I’ll. be there Friday evening. I think you need me! 🙂
Yes, I do need you!!!
You need the crazy Aussies to come visit
Yes…even if they don’t drink coffee…
You are amazing this made my day!
I’m glad it make your day because my kids were *not* impressed…
This made me laugh out loud. I hear you.
The moment this week that’s coming to mind is when I came home with a trunk full of groceries for my six and thought I’d save some time letting them help me carry them indoors. It’s one of those chores I know they need to do, but I dislike it because they always drop things/open containers I don’t want opened, etc. The two-year-old got a package of romaine hearts. Which we could not find later when it was time to shred them for our burritos for lunch. We wasted time, made lunch late hunting for them. My toddler was oblivious, acting as if she didn’t understand what we were talking about. After lunch, I searched again, then made a last effort to get some coherent information out of her. “The lettuce you carried for Mama, like a big girl? Where did you put it?” Beaming, she led me to the coat closet and showed me where she had stowed the lettuce in a pile of hats I still haven’t stored for the summer.
That sounds like a normal day over here. *sigh*
Wow. Too funny! Thanks for sharing.
FYI – you can make “homemade ice cream sandwiches” that are ANAZING with Eggo waffles – toast two, spread ice cream on one, top with other and ENJOY!!! (Maybe that’s what you were trying to do by buying the ice cream mix!!)
I have an actual blog post about making ice cream sandwiches with Eggo waffles!
Totally! I would use the soft serve mix as coffee creamer! And yes those soy sauce and syrup containers look practically identical.
So if it makes you feel any better, this was just my past week (just off the top of my head, I’m positive there are more)…
*called the gastroenterologist’s office, demanding “late” test results–that they’d already emailed to me
*had a…”discussion”…with my husband in the middle of the radiology waiting room about exactly WHICH body part one child was supposed be getting MRI’d and why (while gravity-bolusing another child, who wouldn’t sit still despite being about 2 seconds post-op and therefore theoretically still groggy, trying to minimize formula on my pants and maximize formula IN the child, you know the drill very well)
*honked peevishly at a car going “the wrong way” in the children’s hospital parking garage, then realizing it was the valet scooting into the designated section
*let one child go for bloodwork, then out to breakfast, wearing the previous day’s clothes…and let another child go to the kids’ presentation at the library this morning with her shorts on backwards
*snarked at the husband that nope, there’s nothing wrong with the syringe, but it flows a whole lot better if you open the roller clamp first………then had him point out at the end of the feed that I hadn’t actually locked the extension tube into the button either
*raced through the church after the service, frantically shouting one child’s name…only to find him peeking out from behind his godmother’s feet right there in our pew
Yep, 12 minutes of sleep per night.
I’m pretty sure we were meant to be BFF’s.
😀 Oh the coffee, chocolate, and stories we could share! Hang in there…grace and mercies are new each morning*. <3
*each hour, minute, meltdown, procedure, etc etc etc