I had a splitting headache this morning so I was a bit slow getting around. However, when I came in the kitchen I saw my hubby, who is diabetic, pouring himself a giant bowl of Chocolate marshmallow Mateys. Our eyes met and he looked away with the guiltiness of a five-year-old caught in the cookie jar.
“What are you doing?” I ask, hands on hips.
“Um, nothing…I was just, um…” he waves nonchalantly in the general location of the Cereal of Sin.
“Are you seriously pouring yourself a bowl of that? Why not just take the sugar canister and dump it in your mouth? It’s about the same.”
“I was hungry,” he says, with just a touch of accusation in his voice, as if to say, “See what happens when I’m left to my own devices? Are you trying to kill me here?” He didn’t really say that…just with his eyes.
“Step away from the Chocolate Mateys. Slowly, with your hands where I can see them.”
“I’ll make you something else. Ok?”
My plan: to make scrambled eggs topped with cheddar cheese and some (very little) bacon. What follows is a transcript of what actually happened, as put together by forensic experts and other witnesses.
As I was scrambling the eggs and cooking the bacon, I remembered I had a tube of biscuits in the fridge, so I put those in the oven. While those were baking I remembered I had a pint of fresh blueberries just begging to be made into muffins.
Before you get all judgy on me, you should know that Hubby hates blueberries. Despises them. At night, he dreams about beating them into juice. So there’s no way he would eat one of these delicious muffins even if a gun was held to his head. So it’s ok, got it? If you have anything to say, I dare you to drive down here to Tyler and say it to MY FACE. Ok then.
I couldn’t remember my exact recipe and for once the Pioneer Woman didn’t come through for me. Her recipe was too complicated so I improvised.
This is when the atrocity occurred.
I turn my back for ONE SECOND and hubby is in the kitchen MAKING SALSA DIP FOR CHIPS.
What follows is merely a fog of rage and violence. In my grief and repentance, I can only patch together small bits of conversation but it happened something like this.
Me: “Are YOU KIDDING ME.” Hubby froze. Dear reader: if you ever see me ask a question that ends in a period it’s completely on purpose, to let you know it’s not really a question at all. And you should probably run…as if your life depended on it.
Hubby: “What? I’m just…”
Me: “You’re just WHAT? Making FREAKING CHEESE DIP as I stand here in my spotless kitchen putting together this cornucopia of a feast for you?” Yes, I actually did use the word “cornucopia” cause that’s how I roll.
Hubby: “Relaxxxx.” Dear reader: never, EVER tell a woman on the edge of insanity to relaaaaxxxx (in a tone reserved for rabid dogs and the mentally unwell).This almost always ends badly.
Me: “RELAX? OH I WISH. I WISH I could relax. But see, biscuits in the oven, eggs on the stove, sizzling bacon? BREAKFAST. HERE.” Wide hand gestures which resemble air traffic control motions.
Hubby: “Look, I just wanted dip for my breakfast burritos I’m making. That’s it! Still breakfast.”
I look at him with my eyes narrowed into tiny slits.
Me: “Why don’t you just stab me in the heart? Go ahead. Get the knife and…WAIT.” I turn around. “Stab me in the back, that’s more appropriate.”
Lee: “Um.” He walks away with his Mistress Dip into the sunset. (Ok the sun was up but work with me here.)
Me: “Yeah? Well I’m watching you, Mister, and if I see so much as ONE TORTILLA CHIP MISSING from this bag, I’m coming for you.”
Hubby: (Not concerned at all…even though his very life is at stake.) “Ok.”
Most people agree that the Bausingers SEEMED like a nice family.
As of the writing of this piece, everyone in my family is still alive, and they lived to eat the most delicious blueberry muffins EVER.
Here’s an up close picture of a muffin. Doesn’t it look mouthwatering? I want to lick the screen right now.
Here’s my recipe:
2 cups flour
1 cup sugar
1 container fresh blueberries (rinsed)
1 tsp. vanilla
1 tsp. salt
2 tsp. baking powder
3/4 c. veg. oil (or melted butter)
1 cup milk
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Mix eggs, oil, vanilla, and milk till well blended. In a separate bowl, mix all the dry ingredients. Fold into wet ingredients and mix only till moistened. Put the blueberries in last.
Bake for 20 minutes or until golden brown, and don’t you dare serve these without a pat of butter on top. I’m so serious about that. I will hunt you down.