I suppose I like cooking- sometimes. But it’s positively ruined for me when kids are around, and when are kids NOT around? Never. That’s when.
Honestly, another big problem is when I am chopping vegetables. Whenever I chop vegetables I envision myself lopping off a finger, and maiming myself does not = relaxation.
I have a few regular recipes I stick to, as do many other folks, and sometimes I venture into unknown territory. Yesterday I decided to try my hand at something called Pumpkin Dump Cake. And not even because the name of it was alluring and not at all repulsive sounding. I found the recipe on a blog called Cookies & Cups, it looked good, and stepdaughter wanted something of the pumpkin persuasion for birthday dessert.
When I gathered the ingredients, I realized I had a big old can of pumpkin pie filling, that I mistakenly bought because I am a total dick and can’t read. Then I found the pumpkin, and Fern helped me bake. It was delightfully tasty, and not overly pumpkiny, which would have caused me to hurl all over the table. Pumpkin pies, for instance, are the work of the devil.
For dinner we had meatloaf, mashed potatoes and peas. The kids were all delighted to eat this, mostly because they told us it is the meal served every night on the Family Guy. It’s good, honest, nasty old-fashioned comfort food, it is.
In general, I prefer to snack on little bits of food all day, much like a disgusting hamster, so this sent me straight into a food coma, but all in all it was a fun cooking experience. The end.
And here’s my photo, because it’s nearly impossible for me not to take photos of food propped with toys.