It's ironic that I joked about my mom and the undercooked ham this week. There is a commandment, you know - Honor Thy Mother and Thy Father. Today was divine retribution.
The day started as most weekend days do around here - CH and I try to sleep in, and the kids usually do their best to make sure that doesn't happen. We're sort of awake, but in that dozing state when your bed has never felt more comfortable. Youngest Daughter wanted cereal, and she was alarmed that the Easter Bunny hadn't made it to our home. Dang! I forgot to put out the Easter baskets!
I don't think YD actually believes in the Easter Bunny - she believes in candy, and she is willing to back up whatever vehicle may be delivering said treats. If there was a Flag Day Muskrat who delivered candy, she would be the biggest Muskrat fan you've ever met. It is her way. And she will notice if her scheduled candy hasn't arrived.
Flag Day Muskrat, y'all!
SPOILER ALERT: There is no Easter Bunny. I forgot to put the Easter baskets out, and so I had to go with my backup plan...sneak them around to the front of the house and leave them on the front steps. I'm in my yoga pants and Mount Rushmore t-shirt, sans bra (YOU'RE WELCOME NEIGHBORS), and no less than three people yell "HAPPY EASTER JULIE!!!!" while traveling past our house on their way to church. Those well-meaning Christians nearly blew my cover.
I snuck to the front door, deposited my goods, and crept back around to the back door. I walked in and asked YD to get the Sunday newspaper, and lo and behold, the Easter Bunny managed to make it, even if the parents slept in! First Easter activity down, one more to go - the meal.
I fired up the oven and got out the ham, but I made a fatal error - I glazed the ham before I cooked it. There it sat in the oven, in a blanket of delicious glaze, which made the heat impossible to get in and cook the damn thing. Three hours later, the center of my ham stood at 90 degrees instead of the desired 140. The delicious potatoes with the cornflake topping was done. Biscuits - done. Green beans - done. But the trichinosis laden ham? Not done. I was in a quandry - do we eat the other food while it's hot and to hell with the ham, or wait out the other food until it is cold but the ham is done? I went with Ham Waiting, and broke open a bottle of chardonnay. Thirty minutes and one empty bottle of chardonnay later, it was all serenity. Who cares if the meal is ruined!?! At least we are all together.
Dinner's ready, kids!
I am Ma'am
Ma'am I am.
I have baked green beans and Trichinosis ham
Would you eat it on a helicopter?
Would you eat it with the aid of a doctor?
I would not, could not
With your taters
Can't we just get dinner catered?
I could not would not
With my bro or sis
I do not want Trichinosis!
Would you eat it on Sunday?
Would you eat it with chardonnay?
I would not could not eat it Sunday!
And I am not of legal drinking age!
I will not eat green beans and Trichinosis Ham!
I will not eat it, Ma'am I am!
Damn! Damn! Said Ma'am I am.
They will not eat the friggin' ham.
They will not eat it any which way
I guess I'll serve Trix Easter Sunday.
We ate and talked about God. YD wanted to know if when you get married, the husband becomes God. CH seemed to be smirking. The ghost of Betty Freidan put down her scotch and soda in shock, and then looked at me like, "DO something, you twit!" It turned out that while I was tucking myself into a heap of sour cream and cheese potatoes with the cornflake topping, I missed the actual statement, which was that YD understood God to be the man who MARRIES people, not the actual man being married. Close call, because I was mentally preparing to whisk her away to the Gloria Steinem Fish Bicycle Camp for Wayward Girls.
The rest of the day passed without event. I stole most of the Bunny Eggs on Animal Crossing on the Wii, we plowed through leftovers, and made ourselves pre-diabetic on candy. All in all, a perfect day.
Hope your Easter weekend was glorious, and have a terrific week! Hello Spring!