OOPSEY!!!
I fear that I may have accidentally poisoned my children. Time will
tell, I suppose. It's not my fault, really. It is their grandma's fault.
That's the story I plan to use in court. Please, please, let me have
a better jury than the people I had jury duty with.
It all started when I asked my Hillbilly Mama to tape Skating With
Celebrities for me. The school board meeting that I have to attend
each January was scheduled to begin at 7:00, just in time to ruin
the viewing of my new second-favorite show. How inconsiderate
of them not to consult me in advance concerning my TV-viewing
habits. My TV set-up is not reliable for taping. It does fine if you
tape while watching, but that kind of defeats the purpose.
My Hillbilly Mama agreed, and oh, by the way, she had some of
those chocolate-covered raisins that I'd asked her to pick up way
back in November, did I want them when I picked up the tape
after the meeting? Duh! Of course! Then she remembered she had
a box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese that she would never use,
because now she gets the microwave kind for the grandkids. Sure,
of course I'll take it, Mom. And in return, I'll bring you my leftover
Hunan Chicken from Sunday night that I ate most of the chicken,
but there's some broccoli and a lot of fried rice and some sweet
& sour sauce the kids didn't eat, along with an eggroll and 3 crab
rangoons. Deal.
This afternoon, we returned home from school, and the kids were
clamoring for supper RIGHT NOW. I knew my Hillbilly Husband
had plans to drive his new Christmas toy down in the woods to
the creek below the new land we purchased from the LandStealer.
He saw people logging the land behind it, and even though it is
marked in glowing orange at the property line, he wanted to check
on it. Last time they logged behind our property, they took two
giant trees, even though our land was clearly marked. Oops. They
made a little mistake. Anyhoo, he said he'd warm his supper later,
so I commenced to making one of the three items my children will
eat. Or two of them, because #1 wanted Save-A-Lot Hamburger
Helper beef stroganoff, and #2 wanted macaroni and cheese.
Have you figured where this story is heading? Yeah. I almost have,
too. I fried up the hamburger that was two days past the sell date.
Hey, it was still pinky-looking, and smelled fresh. I put some taco
sauce in half of it for tomorrow's burritos, and put the rest in the
stroganoff. Then I fired up another burner for the mac. Everything
got done, I stirred up the mac, and dished up #1's plate. Then I
went to dip some mac for #2. It looked dry. I caught a whiff of
it, and it didn't smell like the usual Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.
It smelled too cheesy, if you call 'cheesy' a cross between dry
dogfood and cardboard. I called the kids to supper.
I told #2 that I didn't think it smelled the same as usual. He took
a bite. "Mmmm...it's cheesier." He took a couple more bites.
Remembering the time my Hillbilly Mama had served me some
4-year-old ranch dressing, I dug out the box of mac. Date:
January, 2005. Now, I don't think macaroni and cheese powder
can spoil that quickly. It was only a year, for cryin' out loud. But
I told #2 that if he didn't want to eat it, I would pour him some
cereal or make him a sausage biscuit. He said, "Well, it doesn't
taste the same. I'll have the cereal."
#1 son arrived in the kitchen. I told him to smell the mac. "Oooh,
that smells SO GOOD. I'll eat that." #2 said, "Here, you can have
mine." #1 drew the line at eating with the same spoon, but he
grabbed his own, and the bowl, and started shoveling. "Mmm...
this is CHEDDAR cheese. It's great." I tried to stop him. The
box made no mention of cheddar cheese. It was not some exotic
treat his grandma had found for him. Just expired Kraft Macaroni
and Cheese. The cheesiest.
#1 left with HH to check out the TreeStealers. I scraped out the
leftover mac to the dog dish. Our craziest cat came running. The
other animals must have followed HH to the property line. This
crazy gray calico would not even eat it. And she loves noodles.
When #1 returned, I asked if he felt OK. "Yeah, why?" I explained
that his mac was expired. "WHAT! You gave me old milk?" Make
a Note to Self, everyone: DO NOT EAT AT HILLBILLY MOM'S
HOUSE. I assured him that no, I did not give him expired milk. I
never have given them expired milk. I always check the date AND
smell it first. It's milk, not hamburger. He said he still felt fine.
I called my Hillbilly Mama and told her it didn't smell quite right.
She said, "Well, I don't really know how old it was. I didn't think
to check." Maybe I should have kept quiet, and taken her some
mac leftovers in a couple of days.
Hillbilly Mansion. So thrifty, we can not throw away a box of
year-old Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. $0.78 is a terrible thing to
waste.
tell, I suppose. It's not my fault, really. It is their grandma's fault.
That's the story I plan to use in court. Please, please, let me have
a better jury than the people I had jury duty with.
It all started when I asked my Hillbilly Mama to tape Skating With
Celebrities for me. The school board meeting that I have to attend
each January was scheduled to begin at 7:00, just in time to ruin
the viewing of my new second-favorite show. How inconsiderate
of them not to consult me in advance concerning my TV-viewing
habits. My TV set-up is not reliable for taping. It does fine if you
tape while watching, but that kind of defeats the purpose.
My Hillbilly Mama agreed, and oh, by the way, she had some of
those chocolate-covered raisins that I'd asked her to pick up way
back in November, did I want them when I picked up the tape
after the meeting? Duh! Of course! Then she remembered she had
a box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese that she would never use,
because now she gets the microwave kind for the grandkids. Sure,
of course I'll take it, Mom. And in return, I'll bring you my leftover
Hunan Chicken from Sunday night that I ate most of the chicken,
but there's some broccoli and a lot of fried rice and some sweet
& sour sauce the kids didn't eat, along with an eggroll and 3 crab
rangoons. Deal.
This afternoon, we returned home from school, and the kids were
clamoring for supper RIGHT NOW. I knew my Hillbilly Husband
had plans to drive his new Christmas toy down in the woods to
the creek below the new land we purchased from the LandStealer.
He saw people logging the land behind it, and even though it is
marked in glowing orange at the property line, he wanted to check
on it. Last time they logged behind our property, they took two
giant trees, even though our land was clearly marked. Oops. They
made a little mistake. Anyhoo, he said he'd warm his supper later,
so I commenced to making one of the three items my children will
eat. Or two of them, because #1 wanted Save-A-Lot Hamburger
Helper beef stroganoff, and #2 wanted macaroni and cheese.
Have you figured where this story is heading? Yeah. I almost have,
too. I fried up the hamburger that was two days past the sell date.
Hey, it was still pinky-looking, and smelled fresh. I put some taco
sauce in half of it for tomorrow's burritos, and put the rest in the
stroganoff. Then I fired up another burner for the mac. Everything
got done, I stirred up the mac, and dished up #1's plate. Then I
went to dip some mac for #2. It looked dry. I caught a whiff of
it, and it didn't smell like the usual Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.
It smelled too cheesy, if you call 'cheesy' a cross between dry
dogfood and cardboard. I called the kids to supper.
I told #2 that I didn't think it smelled the same as usual. He took
a bite. "Mmmm...it's cheesier." He took a couple more bites.
Remembering the time my Hillbilly Mama had served me some
4-year-old ranch dressing, I dug out the box of mac. Date:
January, 2005. Now, I don't think macaroni and cheese powder
can spoil that quickly. It was only a year, for cryin' out loud. But
I told #2 that if he didn't want to eat it, I would pour him some
cereal or make him a sausage biscuit. He said, "Well, it doesn't
taste the same. I'll have the cereal."
#1 son arrived in the kitchen. I told him to smell the mac. "Oooh,
that smells SO GOOD. I'll eat that." #2 said, "Here, you can have
mine." #1 drew the line at eating with the same spoon, but he
grabbed his own, and the bowl, and started shoveling. "Mmm...
this is CHEDDAR cheese. It's great." I tried to stop him. The
box made no mention of cheddar cheese. It was not some exotic
treat his grandma had found for him. Just expired Kraft Macaroni
and Cheese. The cheesiest.
#1 left with HH to check out the TreeStealers. I scraped out the
leftover mac to the dog dish. Our craziest cat came running. The
other animals must have followed HH to the property line. This
crazy gray calico would not even eat it. And she loves noodles.
When #1 returned, I asked if he felt OK. "Yeah, why?" I explained
that his mac was expired. "WHAT! You gave me old milk?" Make
a Note to Self, everyone: DO NOT EAT AT HILLBILLY MOM'S
HOUSE. I assured him that no, I did not give him expired milk. I
never have given them expired milk. I always check the date AND
smell it first. It's milk, not hamburger. He said he still felt fine.
I called my Hillbilly Mama and told her it didn't smell quite right.
She said, "Well, I don't really know how old it was. I didn't think
to check." Maybe I should have kept quiet, and taken her some
mac leftovers in a couple of days.
Hillbilly Mansion. So thrifty, we can not throw away a box of
year-old Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. $0.78 is a terrible thing to
waste.
posted by Hillbilly Mom at 5:33 PM
7 Comments:
Hi Hillbilly Mom,
I'll be back to leave a comment soon, I just have to call Child Services first.
HooRoo
Rebecca
So, what's the verdict? Did you have a night of the kids hugging the toilet?
http://www.danno.org/blogs
Bec,
I believe that 1-800-BAD-MOM number has been disconnected.
Chick,
They were both perfectly fine. Whew! I've made a Note to Self to check expiration dates on any food my mother gives me.
If it works - I mean, say, they're sick to the point that they're too weak to fight with each other or something like that - let me know. I think I could pull off fixin' an outdated box of Mac-n-cheese to get that same benefit...
Linda,
Nothing weakens their drive to hurt and humiliate each other. But the little one has perfected the valuable talent of making himself cry on cue. I must enroll that child in some acting classes so he can be my meal ticket.
When Tater moved out to the panhandle with her new husband - back when he was new - her mother in law sent them a box of medicines to stock their new medicine cabinet. As Tater was putting things up she noticed that there were medicines in there from 1986!! It was 1996!!! She tossed them and when her mother in law found out she was FURIOUS.
THEN just a couple of years ago Bub took some medicine that his mother gave him, an old prescription. He had a horrible reaction to it, went all loopy, broke out in hives, swelled up, couldn't sleep, etc. Turns out it was dated like, oh 1980-something as well. The doctor chewed his a$$ for that one.
There comes a time when thrifty goes beyond to just plain wacko and Bub's mom is the Queen of Thrifty Wackos. Oy.
Stacie,
My mom has a stockpile of stuff in a closet. It's fine to save the toilet paper for 4 years, but the ranch dressing and BBQ sauce don't hold up so well.
Diva,
Glad my mother's not the only wacko. That would never happen with medicine. If you remember, she only filled HALF my painkiller prescription when I had knee surgery. Not arthroscopic--we're talking the 6-inch scar, cut-through-muscle, 5-days-in-the-hospital surgery. Nope. We don't SAVE medicine because we're too cheap to BUY medicine.
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