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M
I bought a package of five chicken breasts two weeks ago, and stuck it in the freezer. Not unusual- I freeze tons of stuff, since I only shop every two weeks.
I forgot about the chicken. We’ve all been sick, busy, not hungry. So this morning I remembered there’s all this perfectly good chicken that should be used before I grocery shop tomorrow...I’ll just throw it in the crockpot, I can clean the kitchen while it’s cooking, no big deal.
Except.
The kitchen looks like a bomb went off in it. There seriously isn’t one bit of space in the sink or on the counter. Every glass is dirty (all these sick people drinking orange juice and Emergen-C), every mug is dirty (hot tea, coffee), every bowl is dirty (soup). My father- in-law stopped by the other night and took one look around at the mess and all of us huddled under blankets and coughing up our lungs and made a hasty retreat (had it been my mother-in-law, she would have started cleaning and serving up soup, but alas, she lives four hours away and just had knee replacement surgery).
I have no space to set the crockpot. I have no way to speedily defrost the chicken because! We have a tiny microwave. I can’t fit the chicken into the sink to thaw it with water.
I didnt think of any of this before getting the crockpot off a shelf. I looked around, gave up, and set it on the floor. I then got the chicken out and opened it before realizing I was being stupid...it is now sitting in the crockpot. My five year old came in looking for a drink, saw the state of everything, and said “I think we have to get a new house, Mom.”
And this is the story of why I’m going to spend Valentine’s Day washing dishes with a fever of 100.something and trying to saw apart frozen chicken breasts.
Romance is alive and well here, folks.
I forgot about the chicken. We’ve all been sick, busy, not hungry. So this morning I remembered there’s all this perfectly good chicken that should be used before I grocery shop tomorrow...I’ll just throw it in the crockpot, I can clean the kitchen while it’s cooking, no big deal.
Except.
The kitchen looks like a bomb went off in it. There seriously isn’t one bit of space in the sink or on the counter. Every glass is dirty (all these sick people drinking orange juice and Emergen-C), every mug is dirty (hot tea, coffee), every bowl is dirty (soup). My father- in-law stopped by the other night and took one look around at the mess and all of us huddled under blankets and coughing up our lungs and made a hasty retreat (had it been my mother-in-law, she would have started cleaning and serving up soup, but alas, she lives four hours away and just had knee replacement surgery).
I have no space to set the crockpot. I have no way to speedily defrost the chicken because! We have a tiny microwave. I can’t fit the chicken into the sink to thaw it with water.
I didnt think of any of this before getting the crockpot off a shelf. I looked around, gave up, and set it on the floor. I then got the chicken out and opened it before realizing I was being stupid...it is now sitting in the crockpot. My five year old came in looking for a drink, saw the state of everything, and said “I think we have to get a new house, Mom.”
And this is the story of why I’m going to spend Valentine’s Day washing dishes with a fever of 100.something and trying to saw apart frozen chicken breasts.
Romance is alive and well here, folks.
M
Update: Half the dishes are washed, so I put the chicken in the sink with cold water.
THE CHICKEN IS WEARING A DIAPER, Y’ALL.
So it comes in a styrofoam tray, wrapped in plastic. I removed all that earlier. Then there’s the thing underneath to absorb liquid, but that sucker was frozen in place and I figured would pull off easy after soaking in the water a few minutes.
DON’T. Just...no. It swelled up just like a diaper does if it gets dunked. I tried to pull it off while it was still half frozen. Patience...not my strength.
And now I’m going to call my mom to ask her 1, can I get salmonella through the hole the glass left in my finger, and 2, is chicken still edible if its diaper exploded.
THE CHICKEN IS WEARING A DIAPER, Y’ALL.
So it comes in a styrofoam tray, wrapped in plastic. I removed all that earlier. Then there’s the thing underneath to absorb liquid, but that sucker was frozen in place and I figured would pull off easy after soaking in the water a few minutes.
DON’T. Just...no. It swelled up just like a diaper does if it gets dunked. I tried to pull it off while it was still half frozen. Patience...not my strength.
And now I’m going to call my mom to ask her 1, can I get salmonella through the hole the glass left in my finger, and 2, is chicken still edible if its diaper exploded.
Dear MissCris: Sometimes it is possible for me to read what I wrote and think, "Does anybody care what I'm talking about? Is this amusing or will people just think it is dumb?" No distance at all provides little true perspective on what I myself write.
For this reason I think I should inform you that your posts are interesting and hilarious. I just wanted you to know this.
And I grieve with thee in y'all's sick-house experience. It sucks when the whole family gets sick together. But I'm glad you can still find humor in the chicken diaper.
For this reason I think I should inform you that your posts are interesting and hilarious. I just wanted you to know this.
And I grieve with thee in y'all's sick-house experience. It sucks when the whole family gets sick together. But I'm glad you can still find humor in the chicken diaper.
M
Dear MissCris: Sometimes it is possible for me to read what I wrote and think, "Does anybody care what I'm talking about? Is this amusing or will people just think it is dumb?" No distance at all provides little true perspective on what I myself write.
For this reason I think I should inform you that your posts are interesting and hilarious. I just wanted you to know this.
And I grieve with thee in y'all's sick-house experience. It sucks when the whole family gets sick together. But I'm glad you can still find humor in the chicken diaper.
For this reason I think I should inform you that your posts are interesting and hilarious. I just wanted you to know this.
And I grieve with thee in y'all's sick-house experience. It sucks when the whole family gets sick together. But I'm glad you can still find humor in the chicken diaper.
1. I have this horrible compulsion to share every tedious, ridiculous thing that happens in my day and
2. I don’t really have a filter for what’s worth sharing and what isn’t.
Also, in this particular case, my kitchen/crockpot/chicken struggle is best kept off of Facebook because most of my family would heartily disapprove of the entire thing and might threaten to show up to help. But, as cinder pointed out, WHAT is so wrong with slow cooking frozen chicken on the floor (BTW, I have managed to make counter space at this point, and the chicken appears to be cooking along quite nicely, since I rinsed the exploded diaper particles off of it).
If you run the diaper thing under hot water for a few seconds it will come right off.. The important thing is that the chicken doesn't smell funny.. Get some alcohol on that hole in your finger to kill any germs before it gets infected. Hand sanitizer gel will work too.. Or just wash it real good with soap and water.
M
...here we go again, this old thread and me, hanging out together in the middle of the night.
That sounds weirder than I meant it to.
I’m trying to finish my two-week meal plan. I need three more dinners, but I’ve got writer’s block, except with food. Now that I’ve said that, I’m not actually sure it works that way. It’s entirely possible that what I’m talking about requires laxatives when what I mean is that my brain isn’t working...and even in this state, I know laxatives aren’t the proper prescription for a broken brain.
I blame my family for this mid-night crisis I’m having (side note- my phone tries to autocorrect ‘crisis’ to ‘Cristen’ and I can’t say that’s not a little offensive). They all love to eat, but none of them like to eat the same thing. I ask for dinner suggestions and get things like Lucky Charms, Spaghettios, Koolaid...and that’s just from my husband.
Kidding...he doesn’t like Spaghettios.
I’m actually half of the problem. A great deal of my list depends on what I’m willing to cook...not what I Can cook, but what I don’t mind cooking. Fourteen days of cereal and cookies for dinner is ideal in the effort department, but maybe not so much as far as nutrition is concerned.
And then there’s the picky eaters. I won’t eat seafood. My husband won’t eat casseroles. My son doesn’t like macaroni and cheese. My daughter dislikes chicken (and that was before she saw its diaper explode). So, in an effort to be fair to everyone, I put things on the list that I know they each love, even if the rest of us don’t.
...and then half the meal ends up in the trash. For half the dinners. And I tell myself we won’t do that again, but then meal planning rolls around and the same thing happens again. And again.
Maybe cereal and cookies aren’t such a bad idea.
That sounds weirder than I meant it to.
I’m trying to finish my two-week meal plan. I need three more dinners, but I’ve got writer’s block, except with food. Now that I’ve said that, I’m not actually sure it works that way. It’s entirely possible that what I’m talking about requires laxatives when what I mean is that my brain isn’t working...and even in this state, I know laxatives aren’t the proper prescription for a broken brain.
I blame my family for this mid-night crisis I’m having (side note- my phone tries to autocorrect ‘crisis’ to ‘Cristen’ and I can’t say that’s not a little offensive). They all love to eat, but none of them like to eat the same thing. I ask for dinner suggestions and get things like Lucky Charms, Spaghettios, Koolaid...and that’s just from my husband.
Kidding...he doesn’t like Spaghettios.
I’m actually half of the problem. A great deal of my list depends on what I’m willing to cook...not what I Can cook, but what I don’t mind cooking. Fourteen days of cereal and cookies for dinner is ideal in the effort department, but maybe not so much as far as nutrition is concerned.
And then there’s the picky eaters. I won’t eat seafood. My husband won’t eat casseroles. My son doesn’t like macaroni and cheese. My daughter dislikes chicken (and that was before she saw its diaper explode). So, in an effort to be fair to everyone, I put things on the list that I know they each love, even if the rest of us don’t.
...and then half the meal ends up in the trash. For half the dinners. And I tell myself we won’t do that again, but then meal planning rolls around and the same thing happens again. And again.
Maybe cereal and cookies aren’t such a bad idea.