Well. I feel much better. Here I was, worried that people would leave me scathing comments about my lack of hard boiling ability when in actuality, I got a diverse range of instructions on how to hard boil the perfect egg. Yes, they all involved submerging eggs in water (shocking), but boiling times ranged from zero minutes to 15.
That's, like, half a sitcom of discrepancy.
I still felt lost. And frightened. So very frightened. So I decided to call my 94-year-old grandmother and ask for her advice.
Now, I don't really like my grandmother. She's not a very nice woman. I once told her I went rock climbing and she said, "So you're not dating men anymore?" And because she hails from a time when you not only cooked your own chickens, you strangled them yourself, plucked them yourself and shellacked their clawed feet into a pretty comb, she gets snarly when I giggle over my domestic inabilities.
In her eyes, prepared frozen dinners are the antichrist and anyone who relies upon them is Satan's minion.
Plus (and I hope you're not eating as you read this), she has weird a fixation with afterbirth. She swears it can fix anything, from curly hair to gout. I was born with a precancerous mole and for years she told my father that if he'd only rubbed afterbirth on it, it would have gone away on its own.
Who needs board games when you can sit around rubbing afterbirth on each other? Who?
I digress.
After calling my grandmother and listening to her tear me a new one for not visiting more, I asked, "Grannie, how do you hard boil the perfect egg?"
Do you know what she told me?
Pretty much what everyone else told me. It was really anticlimactic. And now I have to visit her on Wednesday. With the kids. And I'm sure you can guess what she's going to say when she sees Diddly's dry skin...
Yahtzee!
Kudos to NH Girl for having the most efficient remedies to my ailments. Seriously. She told me to call Chuck Norris about my baby's scales, take karate to tone my rear, use said karate to kill Chuck (not the Norris guy, the other Chuck) and then to cook the eggs on my smokin' ass. All in a day's work.
Yahtzee!
Showing posts with label just ew. Show all posts
Showing posts with label just ew. Show all posts
Monday, April 4, 2011
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