Stupid Is as Stupid Does

Our neighbors gave us this for Christmas - olive oil, right?  Why did they put all those little rocks in it?  Are they clean?  Should we use this olive oil?  Well, we never have used it because it makes me a little nervous.  It just sits on our counter.

Last night I was trying to fix dinner.  I was just going to grill a piece of chicken in a pan on the stove to add to some pasta.  I only had one hand.  Jack was asleep in his swing, but Molly was trying to help me, James was going to be home late and we were struggling (as is the usual at dinner time).

Rather than getting into the cupboard, getting the olive oil, unscrewing the lid . . . you get the idea . . . I decided to just take a chance and use this bottle.  It was handy, just sitting on the counter, and the oil was going to be cooked, so contaminations from the neighbors or the little rocks would disappear, right?

I put the oil in the pan.  It turned the heat on.  I cut the chicken.  I put the chicken in the pan.  I washed my hands.  I noticed the oil hadn't really moved around the pan and didn't appear to even heat up.  That's odd.  I can feel heat on the pan.  Is something wrong with this oil?  Hmmm . . .

I got the pasta and sauce started, but kept smelling this overwhelming lemony smell.  What is that?  Molly?  Did you spill something?  It started to smell like soap. I just washed my hands, but I used regular hand soap and not dish soap. I didn't use that much.  It smells like a sink full of sudsy dishes.  What is that soap smell?  It's lemony fresh and quite overwhelming.  Where is it coming from?

Ahhhhhhhhhh . . . I'm cooking the chicken in dish soap *&^&$%#&**(@(#(!!!!!!

I honestly considered "washing off" the chicken and continuing to cook it, but it had already cooked long enough that we would have been blowing bubbles if we ate it.  It went in the trash.  I started to head out to the freezer in the garage and get another frozen chicken breast to start cooking, but then all heck broke loose.

Molly fell off the chair while trying to help me.  She bonked her head on the cabinet.  I tripped over the fallen chair and hurt my big toe.  Molly was crying that I threw the chicken away because, "Mama, I want chichen nunnas," and was crying that she'd just fallen off the chair.  In snot covered hysterics, she kept saying, "Mama, I bonk my head, want chichen nunnas."  Jack was starting to stir and was a ticking time bomb to start crying that he was hungry.  James wasn't going to be around until 7:00.

Such is life.

Molly and I ate our noodles with the sauce.  No chicken or green pepper from the garden or salad.  And, I cooked her 3 frozen chicken nuggets in the microwave.

So much for trying to fix dinner.  When James has late nights, Molly and I often just split a box of macaroni and cheese.  We should have just stuck with that.

At least now I know what the neighbors gave us for Christmas.