Dinner Is Served

　
Dinner Is Served

Living in the suberbs can be a wonderful thing, or not. Depending on how lazy you are. The stores are all convienently placed so that anything you can think of, is readily available. A quick jump in the car, and within a few minuntes you're there. Anywhere you want to be, you are there in three minutes, tops! Groceries, clothes, entertainment, sporting goods....so many things my brain could explode deciding which way to go! Food..now that's a direction I know.

I'm not one to, really I mean it, just go out and buy anything I happen to think of. The other day I was trying to make a chicken dish for dinner. The recipe called for "Pounded" chicken. Ok, so I scrounge through my untensil drawer, turning everything in it upside down, searching for a "Pounder", or rather a meat mallet. Huh! I- don't- own- one, imagine that! Me, of all people; do not own a meat mallet. Well, I could have left the meat on the counter, waiting to get pounded, while drying out, running out to the kitchen store that carries that sort of equipment, or not. Hmmm...now this is a puzzle. I could put the chicken in a plastic bag and run out to the store. Hmm..now what else could I do?

Well, I place my chin in my hand, and contemplate the problem. I poke the chicken, as if that would help! I am trying with all my mental capacity( you will see later the actual extent of that!) to come up with a solution that does not include, running to the store; or driving. I'm still staring at this chicken laying on the cutting board, on the counter. Oh yea, room temperature is best for cooking the meat. No really it is! So I am still ok. I am good. Gooood.

What should I do?!!! I know, I'll find another recipe; that will work. I won't have to "pound" the chicken after all. I'll just fix it another way. Great! Now I'm feeling better, relieved at solving a problem so easily. So what if I've wasted 20 minutes, thinking. Oh yeah, that worked well.

Using my enormous brain power to tackle this monumental problem, I grab the cookbook on the shelf over the stove and pull it down. The pie plate beside it falls and crashes onto the stove top, shattering into tiny little pieces. It will take a vacum to get it out of all those crevices. Of course, this is the only large burner on the stove, and I have to use that burner to cook the chicken.

Does heat penetrate through pyrex if it's all broken up? Maybe I won't have to clean it up yet, in the interest of time of course. After all, it is pyrex..heat resistant, kind of like.. kindling.

I could grab the vacum and clean this up...
The vacum is down in the basement, because I only bring it upstairs when company is at the end of the street, and they will be here in less than 2 minutes. Yes, I love to vacum. (my hair always look great too, yeah, every hair in place, uh huh)

I'm passionate about vacuming. The droning sound of it in my ears gives me the feeling I have fallen into a well, and I can't get out. The droning has become my own voice now, having gotten tired of calling for help. I can now only drone the words out of my mouth,help, and don't really care if I get out of here. It's cool in here in the well...sorry, my brain ran away with the spoon!

Back to the problem at hand, chicken? Is that what I was doing? Oh, yeah....cooking chicken. Preparing chicken, making chicken dinner...stupid chicken!

I could put it in the oven! Yeah, that would work great. I'll put it in the oven and it will cook itself. Fantastic! I'm home free now! La de da!
Feeling free from worry now, I start to sing, la lala la..

There's knock at the door. I freeze. My eyes pop open wide, and my brain is frantically searching...just like a computer...was I expecting someone to be at my door? A bell starts ringing...Is there a reason someone is there? Should I know why the doorbell is ringing?!! Did I forget why I was making this freaking chicken dish, and company is at the door with their great big smiles and a casserole in hand to add to a dinner I forgot I was having????!!

OH MY GOD!!!

And of course, being a female, my hands go straight to my hair, to check and be sure it LOOKS GOOD! Yes, the sticky raw chicken is still on my hands. No, it was..on my hands; now it's in my hair, remember? I was poking the chicken. I look gooooood. Yea! Back to..... huh! what is my name, how old am I??

I pull myself up tall and straigten my sweatshirt, tha's right, always looking fine in the kitchen. No designer wear for me, no sir, sweatshirt dejour. (it is to  french!!) I take a peek down the front of myself, yes, that's what I'm talking about; slim. Dried slim. Ugly, dried chicken slim, ALL OVER ME!!
 
I glance at the clock, I think I can make it upstairs, change, do my hair, a quick dry shampoo, (I invested wisely at the dollar store) and some lipstick, before they can ring the bell again.

I turn swiftly around in my best athletic stumble and head in the direction of the stairs, my arms fly out from my body, because I am such a graceful runner... knocking the chicken to the floor. My feet are still moving toward the stairs, slowly I turn, slowly I see....that stupid chicken is making friends with all those pie plate pieces on the floor...stupid chicken....stupid pie plate..

My guests. Yes! My guests just knew that I was so busy in the kitchen making a lovely dinner, that they would help me out and just COME ON IN!! Frantically I try to put on my brakes, my socks on the waxed floor and the momentum I had built on my attempt to beat the doorbell was too great.........all is lost now...

Standing in my foyer, straight in front of me, are my guests. Smiling,(big smiles un huh) with a casserole in hand...told ya!Huuuuug.....ugh!

As I crash into them, knocking them to the floor, with a loud splunking sound,landing on top of both of them..legs and arms all over the place (o a movie comes to mind, no not now brain)...my recent recipe comes to mind.

Ah Ha! All I needed was a frying pan, yea, that would work!! I can pound the whatever outta that chicken with my frying pan! My smile at this momentary reverie is immediately taken as a welcome from my guests, lying beneath me on the wooden floor, looking up into my face, with their eyes and mouths open... Oh, this floor is nasty, uck!

Well, after all, what's a little rumble between friends before dinner? Ahhh....dinner....
I jump to my feet and welcome them heartily. No apology from this old girl. Noooo, this is the way we welcome all out guests. Flatten them in the foyer and let them eat floor-ed' chicken! ( it's french I tell you!!)

I graciously guide them to the family room and offer them a seat, which is far enough away from the the kitchen to not be seen, and excuse myself for a moment. (sounds so tv like doesn't it? I'm June Cleaver in jeans ha ha) I grab the phone and call down the street to the Sub Shop ( classy huh?). They deliver in 15 minutes.

I tell them to send the driver to the back door, it can 't be seen from the family room. Crap! No cash. I casually walk back in the family room and ask my guests if they could change a fifty? (I don't have a dime) They quickly and gratefully (anything to get this over with) hand me 2 twenties and a ten. I count the money as I walk gracefully back to the kitchen to wait for the driver, I can tip big today; and profit twenty for me too!

I relax. Life is good.
I look down at the floor of the kitchen. I take my foot and stir. Chicken and glass meet...hey! Not bad.....

Now this is a recipe I can understand!

foot in the mess and stir
close the door to the kitchen
return to my guests as though I have on my best outfit
act as if I had my hair done today
put on a warm smile and....
have the guest pay for it..
Viola! Dinner is served.　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
 Living in the suberbs can be a wonderful thing, or not. Depending on how lazy you are. The stores are all convienently placed so that anything you can think of, is readily available. A quick jump in the car, and within a few minuntes you're there. Anywhere you want to be, you are there in three minutes, tops! Groceries, clothes, entertainment, sporting goods....so many things my brain could explode deciding which way to go! Food..now that's a direction I know.