How to Make Your Own Cereal at Home

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Homemade cereal

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Five Things that Wig Me Out:

Forgotten Veggies

You know, the kind you find rummaging around in the vegetable drawer, and don’t quite remember buying.  So you decide to check their firmness, only to have your fingers pass straight through to the other side.

Ronald McDonald

Clowns are freaky to begin with, and here’s one that promotes fast food and hangs around exclusively with kids, asking them if they believe in magic.

Musicals

A group of people spontaneously burst into song and dance… repeatedly – it’s unnatural.

Hairless cats

Do I really need to explain this one?

Go-Gurt

It’s like slurping down a large fake-fruit flavored lugie.

Crunchy Cheddar Jalapeño Cheetos

If you haven't tried them, you are wrong.

Well Now, That's Rank

Today I steamed broccoli and cauliflower with dinner.  I was late getting them going, so we started eating the other meal items first.  Unfortunately, I got caught up in serving the kids and realized a minute too late that all the water had steamed out of the pan, mildly burning the bottommost vegetables.  Happily, they weren't so bad as to taste terribly burnt, but did have a slight smoky odor.


After dinner, I went into the garage to dispose of a stink bug my wife had trapped under a jar yesterday (yeah, I don't know -- don't ask).  I went outside and disposed of the insect that was in the process of releasing his foul odor for the umpteenth time since getting jarred.  I took a moment to enjoy the night air before returning inside.


PHEWSHWABAM!


If smells made noise, that would be sound that smacked me in the face as I walked into the garage.  It was the smell of burnt broccoli and cauliflower, combined with day old terrified stink bug who recently vacated the garage.  You know, I'm glad smells don't make noise, because this one would have woken up the neighbors.

Holy Mackerel!

Late this afternoon the older kids were getting ready to make cookies with their mom, the twins were in their high chairs snacking on green beans (one of their favorites), and baby princess had just finished nursing.  It was an ideal time for me to beg a nap off my wife.  To her credit she let me fade to the bedroom with no fuss whatsoever.

Fast forward an hour or two.

My wife woke me up to help with the screaming twins.  No problem.  When my wife lets me nap I feel like doing anything for her, so it didn’t bother me a bit to stumble out of bed in an I-just-woke-up-to-screaming-toddlers fog.

As I cleaned bean carnage off little hands and faces, I noticed the other children were starting to run amuck.  Then when my nine-year-old wandered close enough I saw that crazy glint in his eyes.  You know the one.  The glint that says I’ve got a pent up gang of howler monkeys up here just about to bust out, climb the furniture, fling poop, and of course howl.  Clock check.  Yep, it was already past dinner time.  They needed some stabilizing protein stat.

While perusing the pantry, I found some cans of mackerel.  Aha, quick protein!  I knew my kids wouldn’t eat it plain (can you say cold dead boney fish on a fork five times fast?), so I Googled “canned mackerel recipes.”  As usual, the internet was full of ideas from fancy exotic to downright weird.  I settled on one that looked rather uncomplicated and promising.  I sautéed some onions and a pinch of red pepper flakes, mixed up the mackerel well enough to hide the fact that it contained bones and skin, and added it to the onions.  Heat, sprinkle with fresh ground pepper, serve on rice, and Voilà – dinner is served.

I gathered my hungry children to the table, served their food, and was rewarded with a heartwarming string of compliments like:

“Ugh.  Can I have a drink of milk?”

“Um… I think I’m done.  I’m not full, but I’m done eating.”

“Ew…Does this have mushrooms in it?”

“I had three bites.  Can I be done now?”

One of the twins laughed at me when I tried to feed him a second bite; and his brother closed his mouth, turned his head and looked at me with sad don’t-you-love-me-anymore? eyes.

Now I have to admit the food wasn’t what I would classify as tasty; but it was definitely palatable…if you were hungry enough (which for my kids was apparently closer to starving-in-the-desert-and-having-to-choose-between-mackerel-surprise-and-rotting-lizard-entrails hungry, than being-two-hours-late-for-dinner hungry).

Even my wife, my nursing-a-newborn and always ravenous wife, explained with apparent sincerity that she actually felt quite full at the moment and would have to pass on the dinner offering.

Oh well.  At least I got a nap.

The Burger King Identity

I went through the Burger King drive through yesterday. While I am not a frequent BK visitor, I go more often than I would like… or should. Breakfast was going to be one ham omelet sandwich (hamlet = $1). I don’t like the honey butter on my sandwich, so I asked for it without. At this point, the lady on the other end of the order terminal said, “Oh, now I recognize your voice. Is that you?”

Uh… how do I answer that? I was pretty sure I was me, so I answered a monosyllabic, “Yes.”

Once I pulled up to the window, however, I learned that I was in fact not myself; and the proper response to her query would have been, “No. I am not me. I am in fact someone else who is still me, but not that me at all… nor am I schizophrenic… at least I didn’t used to be.” Then, following proper small talk etiquette, I should have returned the question to show I am courteous and caring. “How about you? Are you you today?”

I’m just glad that whoever I am, I got my hamlet sans honey butter.

Post Turkey Post

Well, I cooked the Thanksgiving turkey too long and the meat was a bit dried out but palatable nonetheless. We had invited the missionaries over for dinner the day after Thanksgiving and were planning on having leftovers and a fresh pie. Not wanting to serve the turkey as it was, Nikki saved the day by making her best batch of turkey tetrazzini ever. Yum. Thanks hon!

Happy Thanksgiving

Nikki just made some amazing stuffing. Now I just have to figure out how to cook a decent turkey and we're most of the way there. My turkeys tend to be hit and miss -- no, I'm not referring to roadkill; I'm talking about juicy vs. too dry. I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow. Happy Thanksgiving all!

Phraseology

My three-year-old just walked up to me and stated,

"Daddy, we eat dead fish."

Well, yes. But... ew.

Some things just shouldn't be said a certain way.

...OR...

Woof: an update

At the behest of my wife, I confronted the dog owners today. We opted for the neighborly approach and made some cookies, which I took over apologizing for not introducing ourselves earlier... Oh, and by the way, did they have any good tips for calming their dogs when they bark incessantly?

She saw right through the cookie-coating. Much to my dismay, she too was pregnant and about as tolerant of me coming over as my pregnant wife was of me not going over. The hormones were raining down on me like acid and I wanted to cry out like the witch at the end of the Wizard of Oz, "I'm melting! I'm melting!" But I didn't because I wouldn't have actually melted and instead would have still been standing there on the porch looking awfully stupid. That would have certainly upped the awkward factor.

I decided to cut my losses and reemphasize the point that we had wanted to introduce ourselves and as a very minor sub-point were hoping they could give us a tip or two for helping their dogs be quieter on the rare occasions they might happen to go on a barking frenzy. Thankfully, she warmed up a bit after we discussed her other child (a one-year-old babbling at us from the living room). We are now fully authorized to yell, "shut up!" at her dogs and/or spray water over the fence should the occasion require. It's the small victories... right?