I had this weird feeling at dinner tonight. I felt like I had become weirdly in touch with the 1950′s housewife living beneath this modern exterior. I plan to blame the whole thing on the food. My dear friend, RM, recently gave me a recipe for chicken pot pie. I decided to make it tonight for dinner thinking that it would be filling and comforting. Oh, jeez, was it good. It was uber-easy and I seriously want to steal the recipe, claim it as my own, and market it to the masses. But, I must give credit where credit is due. Anyway, I have a point…
I have my reasons for spending time cooking a special dinner tonight (which I’ll share on Monday), but I didn’t think that one pot pie could turn me in to Susie Freakin’-Homemaker! Here I was chopping and slicing vegetables for a fresh garden salad to go with our meal. I baked garlic bread, and brewed a fresh pot of coffee. We ate. We talked. We cleaned up together. I was then able to give each of the children a bath. Their hair was washed, body scrubbed, potatoes removed from ears, nails trimmed, and teeth brushed. It was certainly weird.
Homemade dinner. Baths. Give hubby some attention and I might just have earned my cashmere sweater set and pearls from some mothering society of America!
(Of course, I’ll probably have to give them back once they find out I was reading Tori Spelling’s autobiography at the dinner table in between spelling words with the children. There are reasons I’m not Martha Stewart. Today was a fluke…caused by pot pie
