So, a typical day in my life involves getting three different children to three different practices and then sometimes to three different sporting events. Fortunately, the girls have some practices together. (My niece Esmeralda is my virtual 3rd child.) (I would also like to take this opportunity to point out the fact that this entire post would have caused my 11th grade English teacher to break out in hives. And then fall to the floor in convulsions. And then die. And then come back to life and eat my head.) Ummmm....did I have a point to this post?
Oh, yeah. Because I do not want my children to eat fast food and/or concession stand garbage every single day of their lives, I asked my Daddy to get me a Pyrex Portables thingy for my birthday. Actually, I called him from Target and said "You're getting me a Pyrex Portables thingy for my birthday" and he said "Get what you want and I'll write you a check". My Mama always did the gift buying. OK, no crying while typing allowed.
Anyway, today I made Chicken Florentine in my lovely new Pyrex to take to Prince Charming's football game. It smelled amazing. I was quite pleased with myself. That is, until I tried to take the Chicken Florentine out of the oven. The potholder slipped or something and...you guessed it...Chicken Floorentine. And Chicken Door of the Oventine. I was not a happy girl. I said a word (or two) that made Prince Charming give me his I-am-pretending-my-mother-does-not-curse look. I am happy to report that I did not break the dish. I did, sadly, have to clean up the big honkin' mess. My only other option would have been letting my cats clean it up. Resulting, obviously, in an even bigger mess.
Now that I have bored you into a comatose state, I feel much better. Tomorrow, Tales from Boston. I haven't recovered enough to fully report yet.