I had such a wonderful time reminiscing about my experience as a near Chopped champion yesterday, that I’ve still got food and cooking shows on my brain. Let’s clear it out with another post concerning cooking, even if it’s sort of a forced post.
Aside from those two fat chicks from the show Two Fat Ladies, tv cooks are, for the most part, a bunch of pleasant to look at skinny minnies nowadays.
I don’t trust skinny cooks.
I mean come on, whose food would would you rather eat, this skinny woman’s offerings?
Yay, I can cook!
Or food served up by these fine ladies?
Mmmm, food good…
Well, that’s a bad example, actually, because the large ladies cook in the UK. While immensely entertaining when they cooked together, they rarely cooked anything that I’d ever put in my mouth, even if I was triple dog dared. While I have nothing against rendered fat drippings per se, their use of rabbit and squirrel and quail and such doesn’t suit my palate. Come to think of it, I guess food isn’t the first or even tenth thing that comes to mind when I hear UK. Sorry UK peeps, but your food sort of sucks.
Ms. De Laurentiis, on the other hand, despite her waifish build (chest and head notwithstanding) cooks excellent Italian fare that even I can duplicate with much fanfare from the family.
But, looking all pretty alone in your kitchen that overlooks the beach isn’t reality for most of us. It’s perplexing to me that a food channel hasn’t seized the opportunity to find somebody to host a cooking show that’s infinitely more realistic than what’s shown nowadays.
They could just make it reality TV and follow somebody around during dinner on a weeknight. Here’s a typical night with me making dinner. Well, typical if the kids don’t have practice or a game to get to. Would you watch this crap?
Start show with scene showing Don drooling on himself with his face smashed against the disgusting window of the honkey bus after a long day at work.
Don exits bus, gets in his car and picks up the boys who’ve managed to find red and blue suckers at the babysitter’s house again.
Don and boys are sitting in car in babysitter’s driveway. Cool wants to know why they aren’t moving yet since they’ve been in the car for 3 seconds already. Don sighs, contemplates ending his life by jamming one of the hundreds of discarded sucker sicks strewn about his car into his ear, but isn’t sure it won’t just hurt his eardrum and not kill him.
Don texts wife:
What’s 4 dinner?
idk
No craving?
No
I was just thinking about killing myself with a sucker stick.
That would probably just hurt your ear – don’t you have your gun with you?
????!!!
How about chicken picatta and noodles? 🙂
K
Don drives boys home and slips off his shoes. Don almost manages to take off his tie as Cool and G$ both begin demanding something to drink.
Cool says the word outside and now G$ wants to go outside badly. He is following Don around with his little shoes demanding that Don put his shoes back on his feet and take him outside.
Don, clearly frazzled, yells at boys to please shut the fuck up for 3 minutes so he can go potty. Don feels bad for saying fuck, but at least he said potty.
Don goes potty.
G$ is now trying to hammer a triangular block into Cool’s non triangular ear hole causing Cool to scream. It doesn’t fit which pisses G$ off so he screams as well.
In spite of the surround sound screaming, Don fills a pot with water. Don turns towards stove with pot of water and trips over 90 pound dog who snuck up between his legs.
Wet and pissed off, Don curses the day the dog was ever born and throws her outside like he should have done when he first got home.
Don cleans water up and refills pot. Don checks path to stove. All clear, pot is on burner successfully.
Don goes upstairs to take off work clothes and lies on bed for 72 seconds of rest. Don wonders if he could kill himself by jumping out the bedroom window. Don assumes he’d only break a leg or something since it’s grass underneath so he gets back up to finish dinner.
Don puts on raggedy mustard stained t-shirt and shorts from a pile on the ground to go along with black dress socks and flip flops he’s already sporting.
Don goes back downstairs when he hears Cool yelling for help.
Don finds G$ pinning his older brother Cool to the floor while holding him in a head lock. Don tells Cool he’s the older brother and that he should quit being a pussy. Don goes to find frozen chicken breasts in garage as boys continue their battle.
There is no Bud Light Lime in garage fridge. Don curls up into fetal position on garage floor and weeps softly to himself for several minutes.
Don finally finds chicken and begins to defrost it in microwave.
It’s 5:25 pm and Don realizes his daughter Ace needs to be picked up from school at 5:30 pm.
Don texts wife:
r u able to get Ace on your way home from work?
I think so, yes.
I thought about killing myself by jumping out our bedroom window.
Please don’t kill yourself inside the house!
?????!!
🙂
Don is relieved to not have to leave to get Ace.
Don can take no more of the screaming, so he yells at the boys to shut the fuck up again and convinces them that it would be fun to go play the Wii together.
Boys are playing Wii in living room peacefully now while Don gets out all of the ingredients for dinner.
Wife calls Don.
“The highway is a mess, you’ll have to get Ace at 5:30”
Don looks at clock. It’s 5:34.
Don says ok, hangs up phone, remembers to breath and counts to ten.
Don sees chef knife and wonders how long it takes to bleed to death.
Don remembers he doesn’t care to be poked with things and decides to carry on living.
Don leaves chicken defrosting in microwave and contemplates the water on the stove situation.
Getting Ace could take 10 minutes, can I leave the water to boil that long while I’m not here?
Don decides against it and turns off the burner under his near boiling water.
Don contemplates leaving boys alone for 10 minutes while he gets Ace. Don has a vision of G$ chasing Cool with the chef knife and decides to ask wife first.
Don texts wife:
Can I leave boys home while I grab Ace? I’ll turn off the stove.
WHAT? NO! YOU TAKE THEM WITH YOU DUMBSHIT! ARE YOU NUTS?
I thought of killing myself with the chef knife.
Not the good santoku knife I hope!
No, the one from Kohls.
Oh, ok. Go get Ace, you’re late!
Don grabs boys to get Ace.
Boys bitch because they were having fun.
Don gets boys into car and goes to the school.
Ace is not paying attention by looking out the window for him so he has to go into the school in his flip flops, black dress socks, ratty shorts and mustard stained white t-shirt. Of course there’s an event so hundreds of people are milling about.
Don finally gets Ace and returns home sure that DFS will knock on the door sometime this week.
Don realizes he forgot to stop at liquor store for more beer after getting Ace.
Don turns burner back on under the pot of water and covers pot.
Boys are demanding food while Ace is demanding help with homework.
Don excuses himself and returns to his fetal position on garage floor to sob quietly again for three more minutes.
Don goes back inside.
Don sees ceiling fan in living room and wonders if he can hang himself from it with his tie. Don remembers he installed that fan and is confident it won’t hold the weight.
Don texts wife:
Can boys have crackers before dinner?
Yes.
I thought of hanging myself from fan.
Not the good fan in living room, right? And not with your good tie I hope! And I said not inside!
K
Don gives boys crackers and sits down to help Ace. Don doesn’t know what the fuck a rhombus is nor can he remember how to multiply fractions anymore. Do the denominators need to be the same? His mind goes blank.
Don is alerted back to reality by microwave bing.
Don checks chicken. it’s nowhere near defrosted.
Boys are done with crackers. Cool wants more milk and G$ wants more food.
Water is now at a rolling boil in pot.
Mutiny is near certain.
Don wonders if pouring boiling water on his head would kill him. No, probably not.
Don checks chicken again, it’s still pretty frozen.
Don collects all the ingredients for the chicken picatta from the counter and puts them back where he found them.
Don throws a handful of crackers on the floor to distract G$ and gets Cool some more milk.
Don parks Ace in front of laptop and introduces her to Google search engine for help with math.
Don takes semi defrosted chicken to the sun warmed patio outside. Don flips dog the bird while she looks at him cockeyed.
Don goes back in, grabs his pistol and wonders how painful a bullet hole to the head could really be.
Don remembers wife said to not kill himself inside. Don loves his wife, so he goes back outside to patio.
Don throws chicken into trash bin outside and grips pistol.
Don fires pistol 16 times into trash bin while repeating fuck you frozen chicken repeatedly.
Pistol now empty, Don looks up and waves to a neighbor he didn’t see across the way standing on his deck with his mouth agape.
Don goes inside, grabs box of macaroni and cheese and boils noodles for seven minutes.
Don strains noodles, returns them to pot and adds milk, magic cheese powder and butter.
Don stirs noodles and dinner is ready.
Just tell the kids to make their own food. I think that would be fun for everyone!
The blood and tears would make quite a mess.
Every day, every day. We are living the dream, aren’t we? Living.The.Dream.
Yes, yes, let’s keep telling ourselves that!
So dramatic, I was dragged in and at the edge of my seat all the way to the end to see if you offed yourself. I guess you didn’t, right ?
I did not, DOP. I’m still amongst the living.
I swear if one more person in my family responds to my question, “What do you want for dinner?” with “I don’t know, what do you want?” I’m going to blow my brains out. Wait…can I borrow your gun?
Fuckers. They don’t know what they want until you make it, and then they remember one of the things that they DIDN’T want! You’ll need to get some ammo, I did a number on that chicken.
M’kay. Thanks, bro.
Holy cow Don husband is laying on the floor after the first time reading your post and says he can’t get up. I have ruined my make-up and think my heart is going to pop. You need a “Pee Before Reading” warning at the top of your post. I have to go to the potty now.
Lol, you two are a mess!
I kind of had that same reaction myself. But my husband is fine (and making dinner while I sit here quietly sobbing on the couch) because I would laugh too hard to read it aloud, and even in spite of that, always sort of dozes off when I try to read him stuff, so he doesn’t even know about any of this.
Sobbing on the couch? Lol, That’s quite a sight I’m sure! What’s with all us men making dinner all the time?!
You’re better at it.
Actually, Paul just can’t stand sticking his hands in dirty dishwater, so he cooks, and I come in and clean up the disaster area afterwards.
PS: I would watch that show.
Don’t worry, Don. By my calculations, you only have 6,570 more dinners to go until G$ is grown and out of the house. (Of course, by then Ace will have moved back in.) But I’m sure that LONG before that happens, you wife will change her mind about ‘in the house’.
Lol. Geez, when you put it into numbers, it’s even more frightening. Hopefully soon they’ll have food pellets or whatever it was the Jetson’s were always eating.
hahaha! I was laughing SO hard at this. I can relate all too well. One good thing about being mormon is that we frequently have pot luck dinners (like tonight, for example) and I don’t have to cook!! And, I agree. I would DEFINITELY watch this show. For sure.
How do you know that those other people didn’t let their nasty kids put their fingers all over the food though? I guess that’s why it’s a pot luck?
Yeah I try not to think about that and just enjoy a night off!
Hilarious…
Thank you, ma’am!
You and your wife remind me so much of Chris and myself.
“I said not inside and not with your good tie, I hope!”
Bahahahahaha classic. 🙂
She’s funny about the little things…
Typical man, trying to kill himself inside the house for the woman to clean. Tsk tsk.
In my defense, that’s only my secondary reasoning.
I hate myself for saying this but I think this is my favourite post of yours to date! I especially love the reaction to no bud light. i have hidden such reactions to a no wine situation. As for the threats to kill yourself, if I was your wife I would have said,”if you want I will happily do it for you!”
You’re a good wife to offer…and to do it happily is just a bonus.
I would totally watch! The ones that cook the fancy shmancy food that I can’t pronounce just don’t really work for me. Pioneer Woman Cooks is about the only thing that comes close to the episode you’ve described but I don’t have 17 pounds of butter in my fridge. Oh wait…that’s Paula Deen! Whatever…
Love this post!
I liked pioneer woman until the Thanksgiving show. I may have posted about that. Lol. She had like 4 ovens to use and unlimited fridge space!! Whatever lady!!
Right? Because we all have that kind of space in our little one butt kitchen! Oh, maybe that’s just me that has a one butt kitchen 😦
Sweet — Thanks for the free birth control Don!!
You’ll have three before you even know what happened.
And just think…breakfast is in a few hours.
I’m usually able to shitcan breakfast on the wife. Dinner is my punishment for that, in part.
I felt really happy that you told your kids to shut the fuck up. Mostly because then I didn’t feel bad for telling Destroyer to stop being an asshole for 5 minutes.
Then I laughed through your ENTIRE post and cursed you because now i need a set of clean and dry pants.
Lol. You poor hormonal thing. These wee ones can handle the cursing.
I do tend to watch Giada’s cooking show because most of her recipes sound good, but I call it Giada and Her Boobs at Home. Lol. I’m sure your mac n cheese was da bomb!
It was good and her cleavage is always on display (not complaining). Her recipes are pretty good though, we have several in our dinner rotation.
The other day at work, while sitting at a small picnic table surrounded by children, a friend at work said, “Damn, my ass is too big for this bench,” at which point we both looked around horrified, hoping none of the children heard her. Luckily, everyone was shouting and being generally insane, so no damage was done, but still, I yelled, “I didn’t hear you, Friend. What were you saying about your CLASS?”
Saying curse words in front of children is something I find both terrifying and hilarious.
This is your best comment ever? Lol.
We do it all the time and quite frankly, just like with anything, if you don’t make a big deal out of it they won’t either. They know what they’re allowed to repeat and what they can’t. Parenting ain’t rocket science.
OI! Don’t base all British cuisine on the output of these inbred old trouts! They are from the upper classes who, quite frankly, will eat anything, as long as the maggots have crawled out of it first….
British people and cooks are very diverse, versatile, from all walks of life, from the working classes to the chinless, four countries worth of speciality food (Note non Brits – the entire isles are not only populated with the cast of Four Weddings and a frigging funeral y’know…) and we have award winning chefs that specialise in baking, fish, cheese, local specialities, Indian food, Caribbean food, Modern British etc, etc, need I say more? We do however serve normal portions so if you’re over here, you may want to order double…. 😉
Lol, I love it. Hey, are you insinuating that Americans are gluttonous pigs?
I wouldn’t dream of saying such a thing (all English people are v polite and stammer like Hugh Grant), but the last time I ordered a sandwich in NYC (sigh, lurve New York) it was roughly the same size, depth and width of a brick and had contained a chunk of ham that could feed a family of five…..
Don’t usually comment on blogs, but this cracked me up! I could especially relate to having to go into a kid’s school tackily dressed (with crappy unbrushed hair) when the kid fails to watch for their pick up!
Well thanks for reading and commenting! My kids’ schools think I’m a hobo, but what’s a person to do?
Don is melodramatic. Wife would have done it all in 1/3 the time AND had her nails buffed and polished. Don needs to go tell sobbing story to shrink man and get some chill pills. Don needs to remember that he wanted children not only once, but three times. Either Don is forgetful, he is a Neandrathal (possibile given his third person obsession) or he really likes the little blighters. There is always a bright spot. Don’s is that he is NOT living in “Groundhog Day”. Personally, I cant wait for the teenage years. Think you got it bad now? MUAHAHAHAHAHA!
Oh, I don’t like the sound of that. You’re saying that it only gets worse?? Don has many issues and they will only get worse…
Keep your insurance active and the psych hospital in your speed dial. Invest in an alarm system to keep them in and urine cups to monitor their drug use. Get them cell phones to monitor their activity and location. Make sure they are with and where they say they are. Lock your bedroom door and install safes for all your valuables and meds. I learned all this the hard way before my son was 14 years old. And this is advice from someone in the upper 1%. Think Im kiddin? Of course you don’t, youre a cop. Excuse me, officer of the law.
You must have sniffed some of that magic yellow powder. Now you’re talking in 3rd person.
I would watch your show Don because I would be curious to know what sort of fashion bomb you’re going to be sporting!! lol Oh, and because I would want to see you bawling like a big ‘ol baby over your lack of Bud Light Lime!! hahaha
Ahahaha! This is hilarious! The texting between you and your wife and then ending with shooting up the freaking frozen chicken. I laughed out loud. Funny!
The chicken never defrosts properly. Why have a poultry option on the microwave if it ain’t gonna ever work!?? Thanks for reading.
Don, I would SO watch that show…just to see how many different ways you’d think about killing yourself. And that sounds about how dinner in our house goes, except with me calling for delivery cuz I don’t wanna dirty any more pots/pans/dishes/etc. 🙂 LOVE LOVE LOVE your humor. Thanks for the laugh out loud (I got in trouble from the hubby for drowning out his show).
I can’t believe how close you came to a show of my life. So funny, btw. Genuine LOL’s. I laughed hardest at the vision of you sobbing quietly in the fetal position on the garage floor. You’re making me want a beer, too. Stop That! Oh hell, it’s Friday. *pops open a Corona* Cheers, buddy.
I would definitely watch this show … probably not on the Food Network or whatever the hell that channel’s called, but I’d watch this train wreck that is your life. (It would be fun to watch other ppl suffer like I do, so this would be an instant hit!)
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