Thursday, February 19, 2015

what about this, this cannot be cheese

People who justify rudeness as candor or honesty are gross.  I am a rude person, but almost never on purpose.  But sometimes I do want to say something mean on purpose, and thank goodness for John, because he's the only person I trust to gaze upon the chancred tar pit of my soul and still love me.  I think my running stream of mean thoughts shows on my face though, because sometimes when I'm just sitting and thinking my kids will ask me why I'm mad, and when I talked to Grant about Bitchy Resting Face he told me I have it.  I remember my Aunt Pam looking mad all the time.  She was actually a wonderful woman, she was just descended from my Grandpa Max and so she had Wilker face, just like I do.  Undiluted it's not a look that really invites companionship or intimacy.  

The other day I made a sweet potato peanut stew that I saw in Better Homes & Gardens, and I'll give it to you straight:  it was a dog.  You know how delicious peanut sauce is, right, and how you just love to dip your spring rolls in it?  Tasty.  And this stew tastes just like it!  I've often said I could eat peanut sauce by the bowlful, and here was my chance to prove or disprove my claim.  Well, just like I wouldn't want to eat a bowl of mayonnaise or ketchup, it turns out that a bowl of peanut stew is not a good thing.  I will not make it again, and I am ignoring it in the fridge until it either spoils or is old enough that only the chickens will eat it.  John liked it more than I did, so he has taken a bunch of it to work to eat with his coworker Daniel, who is bringing some rice so they can pretend it's some kind of curry-type dish.  Godspeed, brothers.