(no subject)
When I was little my mom would make hamburgers for dinner.
My mom wasn't a great cook. She didn't have the patience for it, and being a working single mother she didn't really have the time. Our meals were quickly thrown together as soon as we got home because I had homework to get to and she had papers to grade. When I was older I still had homework and her illness meant it was exhausting just getting through the day much less cooking a meal. So my mom would make us hamburgers. They neverstayed together. She'd add bread crumbs or an egg but no matter what she did they always fell apart in the pan as she tried to cook them.
So my mother would make "hamburger crumblies". My favorite was when she'd add bbq sauce to the mix. We'd make homemade french fries and make the patties just like normal and then when they fell apart in the pan we'd call them crumblies and eat them with forks. The truth is that I didn't like hamburgers. I don't like hamburgers all that much. But the crumblies I loved. They somehow tasted better. More crispy edges with that carmelized flavor.
Life is like trying to make hamburgers. How hard can it be? You put the ingredients in a bowl, mix them together, and then pat them into patties and put them in the pan to cook. You can do everything exactly right and they will still fall apart in the pan. But with Mom it was never failure. It was something new, and that made it exciting. An adventure.