Meet Your New Microwave. You’re Welcome.

Last night, while lying in bed listening to my seven-year old cough up a lung, I designed the perfect microwave. The one I have is pretty awesome. It looks good, is conveniently located, and it even convects (whatever that is). But what I really want is something that performs the desired function with the push of ONE button, not two or three.

If you’re like me (lazy and impatient with a brutal backlog of Netflix shows to watch), you pride yourself on cutting as many corners as possible in your domestic life. Standing in front of an appliance when I could be watching Downton Abbey? Ain’t nobody got time for that.

So I present to you … drum roll please … a newly designed microwave featuring helpful buttons for everyday life.

1. DON’T BOTHER – for when you know they won’t eat it, no matter what the temperature.

2. COFFEE – specially programmed to reheat that last inch in the mug, for the third time. Especially useful on those mornings when you want to drop the kids off at school and keep walking.

3. JUST THROW IT OUT ALREADY – for meals you spent an hour preparing despite a sneaky suspicion that no one would eat it. Bonus feature: “Let it Go” plays as the food reheats.

4. FROZEN. FROM A BOX  – when it doesn’t matter what it is or how to cook it. Because it’s frozen from a box and you just can’t.

5. NUGGETS OF INDETERMINATE ORIGIN – the equivalent of speed dial on your phone.

6. SURPRISE! – when you’re not sure what it is or how long it’s been in the fridge. State of the art sensor determines if reheating, cooking, or total detonation is required.

7. DATE NIGHT – for that holy grail of leftovers: restaurant meals. Reheats perfectly every time then dries your tears.

8. SCORCHING – for those times when you find yourself saying “Your noodles were cold, darling? Here, try this instead.” Automatically dials 911 for you.

9. FUCK IT – for everything else.

 

 

 

UPDATE re. Octopus Pizza and feelings of murder

Update to my post from earlier today:

First, my sister-in-law Aja has helpfully pointed out that the octopus pizza I lovingly prepared for my children last night was ACTUALLY inspired by a character in a very successful major motion picture. You be the judge.

Pizza

Terrifying dude from Pirates of the Caribbean

Pizza, terrifying dude. Pizza, terrifying dude. Go ahead, scroll back and forth.

The pizza is still worse than a Jennifer Lopez rom com but at least it proves I have some artistic talent.

Second, after feeling all murdery last night I captured this little gem today. It has temporarily restored my faith in my children as well as my ability to survive them.

Smile or she will kill us

J xo

Solo Mission, Day 12

Posting this a little early because if the Kings don’t win the Cup tonight, there’s no way I’ll be sober enough to write a complete (or incomplete) sentence. BTW, is there such a thing as a service that comes into your home and removes all belts and sharp objects? Well there should be.

We started the day with an Oscar-worthy performance by Harmony, who insisted that she stay home from school to celebrate Sam’s birthday. I’d been toying with the idea of a special girls day anyway so I didn’t put up much of a fuss. Also, I’m spineless and I try not to scream too much before 8 am.

The birthday boy taking a well-deserved break from licking his genitals.

So we hung out around the house making homemade magic sand (another Pinterest fail). In related news, I am thinking of getting one arm amputated and replaced with a dust buster.

Then it was off to the mall where I fought the urge to commit a multiple murder just long enough to do some Father’s Day shopping. Daren, your gift kinda sucks but I am operating on the assumption you would prefer a shitty gift over an incarcerated spouse. Yes I realize there is a chance I’d come back a lesbian but who would look after the girls??

After the mall we took the wagon over to the LCBO where my filthy clothes and yesterday’s mascara completed the look of a substance abuser with a suspended license.

The girls are so cute. They thought the fruit was for them.

On the way, the girls found the world’s unluckiest caterpillar and brought him along for the ride. Honestly, this guy was in the middle of the road, poised for certain death and he’s probably STILL cursing his bad luck. “Buddy” is now imprisoned in a ziploc container in the kitchen and if he  survives until bedtime I have promised to set him free. I do not speak caterpillar and I have never been a POW but somehow this fuzzy little guy and I have connected. We share a bond. We’ve seen things.

“He’s so cute. Let’s take him home and starve him to death.”

“Groceries” unloaded, we had dinner and fired up the wagon once again, headed for the ice cream shop down the street. The girls can’t believe I keep saying yes to wagon rides. I’m pretending it’s because I’m super nice and I love them to bits but it’s really because I have a master plan to develop buns of steel by the time D gets home.

True story about the wagon…. I originally said no when H asked for it but never one to give up after one, two, even seven “no’s”, she rightly pointed out that it had cup holders and we had ourselves a deal.

After ice cream it was, mercifully, time to start winding down for bed. But not before we cleaned up the brown sugar the dogs had pilfered from the pantry and demolished on the couch.

But first, we had to celebrate the birthday boy. Sam got his very own doggy cookie and one for each of his cousins. He loved all of his gifts and made a really moving speech about the power of family and clean genitals. It was beautiful. He didn’t even mind that the strippers were over 40.

Happy Birthday Sammy!

GO KINGS GO!

Solo Mission Day 1: June 2

Diary of my captivity, Day 1: They tried to wear me down with incessant bickering. I got them back with broccoli in the Mac and cheese so we are calling this one a draw. If our enemies could harness the anger and venom of a 4 or 7 yr old whose sister is touching her blanket / arm / toy / book the world would be a very different place. A very scary place. Forget a woman scorned. Hell hath no fury like a 7 year old. I would also like to thank Austin for adding to the enjoyment of this day by eating an entire bag of carrots and shitting it out in the dining room while we were at the library. And the award for best advice of the day goes to the gentleman who opened the pool and helpfully suggested we not swim in it until “the algae clears and you can sorta see the bottom.” Super duper.

Wanna come over and swim in my lake?