Got home from work today and my poor sweet husband is plunging the sink. The dirty dishes are strewn all over the counter. I asked him what the heck was going on. The kitchen sink is clogged and neither of us can figure out why. These things happen I guess.
In any home problem/crisis we have a system:
Step 1: Attempt to fix problem ourselves
Step 2: Call the Father-in-Law (FIL), aka: Mark, aka: Master-of-home-repair-and-handyman-tasks
Well, since Step 1 is failing miserably we resort to Step 2.
As Chris plunges away, I'm talking to the FIL on the phone. He stated something brilliant as the MIL was reading the first part of "the fried chicken catastrophe" on her computer. He asks "Where'd you put the chicken paste? Did you put in the sink?"
I think to myself "Chicken paste? What the heck is chicken paste?" and in the midst of my thoughts, Mark adds, "Well, it's really not paste, it's like dough, the flour that you cooked chicken with..."
OOOHHH, the chicken bisquick goo! Of course! Well, Shhhhhhugar cookies. I ruined the batter AND clogged the sink with it. Awesome!!
Chris and I cracked up. At my expense. Again.
Haha!!! I love that your MIL reads your blog! And way to go for the two of them sloothing that one together!
ReplyDeleteNOTE TO SELF: No chicken paste in the sink! Actually it's probably a good practice that no kitchen disasters should go into the sink. There's just too much risk!