Just like pulling teeth
My stint as the parent volunteer middle school track coach began on Monday. My pathetically out-of-shape self survived a jog through town with the kids, and I was there to spare some kid the self-esteem blow of coming in last. Go me.
Knowing that the next seven weeks will be busy, between coaching and work, I’ve been planning meals. On Sunday I browned a few pounds of ground buffalo. On Monday we picked up sandwiches to give me time to make a huge batch of marinara sauce, complete with a little scorching on the pan bottom to give the sauce a hint of smokiness. (Sounds weird, but it is yummy.)
Tuesday’s dinner was the meat and sauce served over beef ravioli. I cheated a bit and used the frozen kind, so it was a semi-homemade dinner. Tonight, rather than eat leftover ravioli, I debated between meat and cheesed stuffed shells or manicotti, or a lasagna with the leftover sauce and meat. Instead I opted for pizza burgers and picked up a day old loaf of French bread from Jimmy Johns. The bread makes the perfect receptacle for the pizza burger, since it is chewy and crusty so it doesn’t get soggy as fast as a hamburger bun would. I toasted the bread with garlic salt and cheese (adding some crushed red pepper to mine.)
While that was toasting, I nuked beef and sauce, and sliced up pepperoni and green olives. Soon there were four mini pizza burgers assembled, two each for me and Jace.
The problem?
Jace’s very last baby tooth was loose, dangling by one root. He couldn’t eat with the tooth hanging there, and he just couldn’t bring himself to yank it out himself.
Instead, the little masochist opted to call upon his mother’s sadistic side. I made a little lasso out of unwaxed dental floss, and he looped it over the tooth and tightened it. The first yank didn’t accomplish much, and Jace wanted to try on his own. He gave up and called me back in. At this point, I just wanted to enjoy my dinner in the few minutes I had left to eat before a city council meeting. I yanked, hard, and the tooth shot out and rattled across the floor as Jace let out a howl.
Success!
It's possible I enjoyed that a little too much.
Does the tooth fairy have to pay if she did most of the work herself?
Knowing that the next seven weeks will be busy, between coaching and work, I’ve been planning meals. On Sunday I browned a few pounds of ground buffalo. On Monday we picked up sandwiches to give me time to make a huge batch of marinara sauce, complete with a little scorching on the pan bottom to give the sauce a hint of smokiness. (Sounds weird, but it is yummy.)
Tuesday’s dinner was the meat and sauce served over beef ravioli. I cheated a bit and used the frozen kind, so it was a semi-homemade dinner. Tonight, rather than eat leftover ravioli, I debated between meat and cheesed stuffed shells or manicotti, or a lasagna with the leftover sauce and meat. Instead I opted for pizza burgers and picked up a day old loaf of French bread from Jimmy Johns. The bread makes the perfect receptacle for the pizza burger, since it is chewy and crusty so it doesn’t get soggy as fast as a hamburger bun would. I toasted the bread with garlic salt and cheese (adding some crushed red pepper to mine.)
While that was toasting, I nuked beef and sauce, and sliced up pepperoni and green olives. Soon there were four mini pizza burgers assembled, two each for me and Jace.
The problem?
Jace’s very last baby tooth was loose, dangling by one root. He couldn’t eat with the tooth hanging there, and he just couldn’t bring himself to yank it out himself.
Instead, the little masochist opted to call upon his mother’s sadistic side. I made a little lasso out of unwaxed dental floss, and he looped it over the tooth and tightened it. The first yank didn’t accomplish much, and Jace wanted to try on his own. He gave up and called me back in. At this point, I just wanted to enjoy my dinner in the few minutes I had left to eat before a city council meeting. I yanked, hard, and the tooth shot out and rattled across the floor as Jace let out a howl.
Success!
It's possible I enjoyed that a little too much.
Does the tooth fairy have to pay if she did most of the work herself?