Still More Recipes for Disaster

I spent some great quality time with Hannah this past Sunday. I got the phone call early in the morning, stopped by her house and picked her up. Joy! We drove off to Eric's house to make some chicken tortilla-less soup.


Mid-morning, post-soup making, we left Eric's house, driving back down highway 9 through all the little towns toward Santa Cruz. I asked Hannah if she wanted to go to the pet store with me and she said, "Oh, my gawd!" like she was used to adults flipping on her. I took her OMG to mean yes. So we headed into town to the big pet store to get Bella's nails clipped. Once inside the store Hannah wanted to check out assorted live animals, not the dogs milling around but birds, lizards and kittens. I remember my pet-free days of yore - back when I just had the cat (the one still alive that I did not kill). Back when I had freedom, and did not have to employ the use of a five year old as a pet-sitter while shopping for animal toys and pet food. My memory is fleeting though I hold out hope as I'm aging to recall the good ole days when I didn't have the urge to write about dogpoop or even remember that I could write.


Later that afternoon, Hannah's mom brought Hannah back to my junkhouse to hang out. Upon arrival, Hannah said was she wanted dessert so we got out the sugar-free diet lime jello because it's nutritious and so good for you. After "dessert" we took Bella for a drag walk. 


While on the walk, every so often, Hannah might whine a bit and say quietly "I miss my sisters." Or "I want to go home." I think she has some separation anxiety though only for a bit of time. I usually change the subject by loudly shrieking at her and we get on with our visit. I'm sure that no other adult does this to this child. For example, when Hannah says, "I want to go home" and sounds slightly weepy, my reaction is often something compassionate and caring like "OH, JUST SHUT UP!" and then Hannah will laugh. Remember to add this tip to your list of child-rearing hints. 


When we got home from our walk, I asked Hannah what she wanted for dinner, and talked her into eating a dry, old, lite-cheese, grilled sandwich. Hey, I know what kids like to eat! My recipe for this sure-to-please though rare delicacy is:

1. 2 slices frozen, stale bread
2. Shredded lite cheese, stale, preferably out of an air-dried & opened cheese package
3. Panini maker

Heat panini maker to full broil. Put one slice of frozen bread on the grill side. Heap stale cheese in center of frozen bread. Put top piece of bread on cheese heap (by heap, I mean approx 1T of dry, old cheese.) Close panini maker. Sing Italian panini diddy while waiting for cheese to "melt." Cook sandwich until browned or until you remember the sandwich is still inside the panini maker burning and you are on the back deck, watering plants and hanging out with Hannah and the dog, talking shop. Remove sandwich from panini burner and notice that the cheese is still in the same form as it was when you put it between the slices of bread. Crumpled dried pieces of shredded cheese. Yum.


Serve this extra-crispy, browned, striped sandwich - whole on the only plate you own. (You can't really cut this sandwich anyway so it has to remain whole.) Serve the "meal" with nutritious hot cocoa made from a package you picked up at Eric's house earlier in the day.


Hannah sat at the kitchen table eating her deluxe junkhouse dinner. I sat opposite her trying to eat my home-made tortilla-less soup I'd made earlier in the day where I neglected to cook the vegetables. Each mouthful of soup was like eating a bowl of marbles. Celery, carrots and onions, all hard. The carrots, the worst of the bunch (ew pun!)  


Halfway through eating her sandwich, Hannah looked at me and said "Uh, this is how you aren't supposed to do it."