Undomesticity

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I did that meme a while back saying I needed to take Intro to Housewifery, but I’m not sure if I’ve ever shared a few stories illustrating my talents. I have said several times my mother was a home-ec major and I was the disaster messy child who didn’t ever learn any domestic duties. I entered marriage totally clueless. I knew how to make hard-boiled eggs and pasta…that’s about it. My spouse? Started marriage as my guinea pig. Most of these are from our first summer in 1999.

• My first attempt at making fried chicken. I was so proud of myself. I had my chicken, my oil was getting hot. I had the little recipe card from mom and was following it to the l-e-t-t-e-r. Sizzle Sizzle! plop plop goes the chicken and splash went the oil. All over my face. AHHHHH. Screaming bloody murder. Face? Feels like it’s on fire. Hubby says to put ice on it. Thinks all will be fine. Calls EMT friend who says we probably should’ve gone to the ER. Thus? My fear of frying. That’s right. It’s been over 8 years, and I’ve never fried again.

• I complain to spouse about the dryer not working properly. He goes and tinkers with it, say he can’t find anything wrong, then asks about the lint filter. What’s a lint filter? OH, that’s where the woobies (lint) go, huh?
• I heat some bbq sauce in a glass in the microwave. Pup says it isn’t warm enough, puts it back in for a little longer. He pulls it out and kablooey! it explodes all over Pup. Lots of scarring results. Apparently, you shouldn’t use glasses. Only Pyrex?
• I went to the grocery & bought the goods. I unload and think nothing of it. Several summer days go by & I keep telling Pup how my car stinks. I go buy leather cleaner. I wash the whole thing. Car still stinks. Five days after the smell begins, I realize the chicken I bought at the store is MIA. I tear the car apart, and there it is, wedged under my seat where it must’ve slid out of the bag. Five summer days with no ac. That smell? Was pure nausea.
• On a similar vein, I thought I was being so good. I washed Hub’s car, took out the floor mats and put them in the washer. Whoopsy. Um…they became fuzz. Lots and lots of fuzz. I spent longer cleaning out the washing machine than I did cleaning the car.
• I went to the grocery. I bought pastrami. We ate it. Several nights of really queasy tummy. Think I’m pg. I freak out. Am only 21. I’m not ready. Realize: assmunches at Stop N Shop didn’t cook it. I’ve been giving spouse & I food poisoning on a daily basis.
• I put dishes into the washer. I put in detergent. I run the cycle. The washer begins to bubble. A lot. Apparently? Liquid detergent does not do well in the washer. About twelve towels went through three loads of drying before I could get all the suds up.
• The hottest week of the year in New England 1999 was the week around the 4th of July. Pup starts getting sick. I give him lots of tea to drink as you need liquids. He coughs a couple of times, I buy the diabetic cough meds and continue to monitor him in the 100+ degree heat. We’re dying without any ac to the point that we go to CVS to hang in the ac. Our house is so hot, we move the mattress in our bed downstairs into our living room. Pup gets worse. His blood sugar gets wonky. I miss our town’s famous oldest 4th of July parade in the country to take Pup to the ER in Providence. He? Has a bad case of pneumonia. The doctors? Can’t figure out how a 22 year old man could get it during a heat wave. I? Was lousy at doctoring, so they put him into the hospital for three days. He gets ac. I go home to the hot box.

  There you have it. My best of the worst. I promise I’ve gotten better. I can somewhat cook now. It’s the cleaning part I can’t get down.

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Filed under Crazy woman, I love the Puppy, undomestic goddess