Is that how you spell doozy?
We all know what I mean either way, right?
I mean, it's really blown. I mean I Can. Not. Wait. to get the hell out of Dodge tomorrow morning.
(Dodge is Austin, TX in this scenario everyone. Didn't want anyone wondering when I actually went to Dodge, where that is in Texas, why I didn't mention going somewhere else first, etc.)
I am spending a lot of time dreaming about my time poolside with a cocktail, dinner made by someone else, and possibly some serious dancing. I could totally rip up the dance floor in Vegas. I've been practicing.
I'm going to have to make this quick because I have a LOT going on tonight. The final season of Entourage came out on DVD today and Alex and I have a serious love for Entourage.
I am busy packing and have been making a desperate attempt to take a small suitcase, which I do realize shouldn't be a problem since I'm only going to be gone a few days, but I have a lot of shoe needs. Besides, I'm checking my bag either way. If I have a chance to travel without my kids, there is no way I'm going to drag around a giant bag.
I also have to figure out how I can transform my image so that I could pull off wearing a fedora in Vegas.
I really want to be someone that can wear a fedora.
I would be lying though if I said that I'm not concerned about leaving Alex with the kids. It's not that he can't handle them, it's just that he gets confused about where we keep the bread and forgets to feed Stella and often sleeps through long periods of our children screaming.
I can't really help him much from a far so I figured I could at least leave him a recipe for something other than cereal to serve the kids. I wrote him a recipe.
First, thank you so very much for being willing, without complaint, to take on our three children while I go to Vegas. Your willingness to do so either shows your amazing love for me, or how out of touch you are with our current reality.
I'll be praying for you, oh and them, either way.
I know you have a difficult time multi-tasking so I'm slightly concerned with how this is all going to go down. Periodically our children need things all at once. Sometimes you might have to go to the bathroom, while Stella cries for a snack, and Aiden and Cole start to physically fight over a Star Wars man the size of your pinkie finger. It's serious.
DO NOT PEE ON THE FLOOR.
You'll just have to clean it up and Stella will probably toddle along and splash in it before you can get a rag to clean it up, and then you'll have to give her a bath and that's just not going to go well in the middle of the day. Just control yourself.
I actually think you'll be fine. Actually, I'm a little unsure but I'm going to be gone either way so I'm going to just let it go.
I know you are probably busy with the kids' I-Miss-Mommy-Because....Game and taking turns talking about what everyone could do better when I get back so I don't feel the need to run away again on Sunday night, but don't forget the kids need to eat. I thought you might want a quick and easy meal to feed them while I am gone. I know how much you really want to submerse yourself in my role.
Here's what you need.
Three boneless, skinless chicken breasts
3 eggs beaten
2 cups Italian bread crumbs
1 stick of butter - melted
While looking in the refrigerator, you might be interested to know that I received a rather large bundle of some sort of "herb" from our vegetable CSA today. I don't know what it is, but as someone that briefly dated a very avid pot smoker/dealer I want to say that you could smoke this if things get really rough for you.
I'm not even sure it would do anything, but the entire process might confuse you enough to make you feel a little less shaken when someone is yelling at you about the amount of ketchup you put on their plate, while someone else asks you to explain for the 673rd time how long 7 days is.
(Here's a tip: Do NOT answer this question by saying 7, 24 hour periods of time or the conversation that will follow will make you run out and sell our adorable baby for actual drugs, not just herbs.)
Oh, I forgot to mention. You will find those herbs in a plastic bag on the bottom shelf of the fridge, but there is absolutely no chicken in there so you better get the kids in the van to roll to the grocery. I'd allot 30-40 minutes to this....getting the kids in the van, 30-40 minutes to actually have them all pee, get shoes on, complain about the torture of their crappy lives, and get in the van. No less. No way.
When you get back you'll probably want to get started on dinner right away.
What? It's 10 in the morning?
You should hurry up.
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
Do NOT let Stella see you do this or the next time you turn around she'll have it set on Broil and there is no way you even know what that means or what it means for your chicken. Let's just say it would substantially jack up your meal, and let's be honest, you just can't afford that, right?
Take the chicken breasts and cut into 2 inch slices, like a nugget. Do this on a plastic cutting board and be sure to wash it and the knife immediately. Have you heard of salmonella? It apparently sucks and I am very confident there is no way you would survive an outbreak in our family without me here so clean that nasty stuff up fast! (With more than a washcloth with water on it.)
Melt the butter. Wait. Do you know how to melt butter?
Put it in the microwave for no more than 20 second intervals at a time. The butter will explode all over the microwave and I am reasonably confident you won't clean it up and then I'll be cranky. Where's the fun in that?
Take out a casserole dish and spray it with some cooking oil. Lightly.
Crack the eggs and mix them around a little into a shallow bowl, like a pie plate. I know you think it's fun to involve the kids with cracking eggs, but I'm here to tell you that it is in fact not. You will regret any child involvement in this recipe. You have been warned.
Mix the melted butter in to the breadcrumbs. Do not eat it. This is not really food, even though it has butter in it. I know this is confusing.
Dip the chicken into the egg and then into the buttered breadcrumbs.
Place the chicken in the dish.
Put the chicken in the oven for 20-30 minutes.
During this time you should probably be cleaning up the kitchen, but I am fairly confident that Stella is begging to be picked up, Aiden and Cole don't understand why they can't just eat fruit snacks for dinner while wrestling with you, and you might be trying to figure out what to smoke those herbs in after the kids go to bed. I think there's some plastic water bottles in the recycling bin.
When the timer goes off. What? Aiden stole the timer and turned it to 55 minutes? Amatuer.
You can't put the timer out so the kids can see it. They always will be most attracted to whatever is most valuable to your sanity in the current moment, it's just the way they work. See why I am crazy?
When you think it's beeen enough time, check the chicken by cutting a little to see if the chicken is still pink in the center. It would probably suck to feed your children raw chicken. That would be poor form for a good father.
Once it's done you can serve it up with whatever side dishes you have prepared.
No side dishes?
Fine, just milk. You're only making my meals look more amazing as far as I'm concerned.
Now, try not to cry, scream, jump on the dining room with a long speech about respect and gratitude when every single one of our children takes one bite, says they are gross, and takes their plate over to the sink. Just be happy they take their plate to the sink and this signals bath and bed time. I've learned it's best to look on the bright side of this horribly disappointing moments in parenting. Your words will be lost on them and you'll just have to drink more later.
Good luck and I love you!
Oh, by the way, I found a small piece of poop on the shower door in our master bathroom door so watch out for stuff like that, apparently that's what we're up against now.