Mustard

One of my sons has a natural talent and interest in cooking and the other one is not into it at all. I don't pay attention sometimes and agreed when someone said my son was 'real smart but has no common sense'. GRR... Um, not any less than any other child. That's what I'm here to help with! I'll try to pay more attention from now on... : )

See, the thing I had in my hand on display was the sandwich he made for my lunch: A piece of bologna on itty bitty bread ends all covered with mustard. The whole inside of the bag was mustard.

When I asked my husband to go get bread and he said "We have bread!" I think that was just a technicality.

It's one thing to care about cooking and do well and it's another to not care and slap things together but it's the worst to be awful yet really care about it. I remember when I was his age... I was terrible. I'd be so ashamed I'd go through an entire dozen eggs trying to make breakfast for my Dad and brother. "No, don't come in here, it's okay!" My brother came and looked in the garbage, "You know, we could've still eaten those..." "No, they're bad! The yolks were broken!"

You know you're getting somewhere in life when you realize most of your trauma are just interesting stories...

I'm not going to worry about rescuing my son's honor. I once mentioned not really feeling that spiritually engaged at "rock 'n' roll church". I felt so, so bad...

(I actually do think there could be a place for church lite. I just think it seems slightly whats-the-word to be both super fun yet have extreme views like dinosaurs in 6000 B.C. I think atheists are tough as hell. I just can't do it right now.)