A Role Model?

Yesterday my mom asked the girls what they wanted to be when they grew up.

Sydney said: "A Mommy!" How sweet.

Then she follwed it up with "So I can go to work and take a shower!"

Well, I suppose that's better than nothing. I'm definately not a role model in the kitchen. I attempted to roast a chicken for dinner. A relatively simple meal really. Admitedly I was distracted. Lucy and Lyle came to visit and we were watching three toddlers as I discussed the best way to season the chicken.

Finally after about an hour and a half I took my roasted bird out of the oven and tried to carve it. Strangely there was very little meat where the breast should be. It smelled good, the skin was cooked to perfection and the meat I pulled off the wings/legs was fabulous. But where was the rest?

Suddenly it occured to me to flip the bird over. There was the missing meat-- pink, with a yellow skin. Flavorless and possibly deadly and undercooked. I tried putting it back in the oven several times and basting it to get it back up to speed.

Now it was nearly two hours after I started cooking, the kids were melting down and Scott had walked in the door.

We quickly declared it a minor disaster, I popped chicken nuggets in the microwave and then I ran to the Mediterranian place for take-out.

I never claimed to be a domestic goddess! Before we threw it in the trash we did pick off most of the edible meat. It really was delicious. Sigh.