Jake: Can I make some Krusteaz pancakes? (That’s the pancake mix brand but Jake says it more like Crustyass).
Jake: How many should I make? 12-14 or 18-21?
Me: Depends how hungry you are.
Jake: I’m going to share too.
Me: Then make the biggest batch size.
Jake: There’s one for 260-280 pancakes.
Me: That should be good.
Jake: Where’s the cord for the griddle? What temperature? Is this bowl ok? Where’s a spatula? Where’s the wisk? What are the instructions? Where on the bag? (I nodded, pointed and held up fingers to answer)
Jake: So did you say I should do 18-21?
Me: If that’s what you heard, sure.
Jake: Where’s the griddle? (Yes, one would think that question would have been asked when he looked for the cord.). Why isn’t the griddle in the same cabinet as the cord?
Me: We like to keep you guessing.
Jake: Can I make chocolate ones?
Jake: Can I add chocolate chips too? (more nodding)
Jake: What the heck?? They are Buttermilk pancakes but the recipe doesn’t have any milk???
Me: Weird, huh? Some recipes just add water.
Jake: I don’t care what the recipe says. I’m adding milk. Buttermilk pancakes have to have milk. And butter. And Ovaltine.
Me: You rebel.
Eric: Owww! Moooom, Jake threw something at my foot.
Jake: No I didn’t. The wisk fell out of the bowl.
Me: Eric, if he was going to throw it at you, he wouldn’t aim for your foot.
Jake: I can’t get all the lumps out.
Me: Those are chocolate chips.
Jake: Was I supposed to turn the griddle on?
Me: You did.
Jake: But it’s off now.
Me: It does that when it gets hotter than 350 and then turns back on when it cools off.
Jake: That’s dumb. Why can’t it just stay at 350?
Me: It likes to keep you guessing also.
Jake: It turned back on. You can relax now people.
Jake: Why are you typing?
Me: I’m writing my blog.
Jake: You aren’t writing a blog about me making pancakes are you?
Me: Pssh, no.
Jake: Was I supposed to Pam this?
Me: No, Pam doesn’t need to help.
Jake: Moooom, they are burning. Oh, nevermind. I forgot they are brown because they are chocolate.
Jake: I made a straight long one. Who ever said pancakes have to be round?
Me: Well, the “pan” part kind of implies the shape. You really are a rebel.
Jake: It only made 6 pancakes and the batter is already gone.
Me: That’s because they didn’t expect you to make them the size of the entire griddle.
Jake: I can’t flip it. Where’s a back-up spatula? I need 2. Oh man, it ripped. Can I glue it?
Me: Yes, but call it icing.
This one either needs a nose job…or is an Angry Bird!
This is my first post of McQNisms – funny little tidbits of our lives that aren’t quite enough to be a post on their own, so I’ll combine a bunch into one.
Why “McQNisms?” That’s how our last name, McKeown, is pronounced. Mc-Q-N. Many of you that know me in real life are probably reading this right now saying “THAT is how you are supposed to say it??” We are so used to it being pronounced incorrectly, we just answer to anything now. McKeon or McKnown or McQueen or McKeeOwwIn or – my favorite – McCowin. Just think of it like JR Ewing from Dallas. But with a “Mick” at the front and no “guh” at the end.
I wish I had funnier ones for the inaugural McQNisms…but this week it’s all I got! I even had to recycle a couple of old Facebook statuses.
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Me: You left the bin of Super Soakers outside and it is raining! They are going to get ruined.
Photo: mediaite.com
Eric: Mom, they are water guns. And you are telling me not to let them get wet…
Touché, Eric. Touché.
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While Jimmy was listening to “Dude looks like a lady” by Aerosmith, Eric asks “Is that about Justin Bieber?”
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Photo: chopra.com
Discussion about Jake’s teammate that had to leave their football game because of an injury (since then we’ve found out he has a concussion but is ok)…
Jake: They wanted him to go to the emergency room because he hit his head pretty hard. They said it wasn’t good because he was seeing colors.
(Greg gets a look of horror on his face)
Greg: But I see colors all the time!
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As I was getting ready to go to back to school night at the high school…
Me: I think I just go straight to your first block class, right?
Jimmy: I don’t know. Didn’t you go to back to school night the past 2 years?
Me: Yes, but all I remember is feeling lost.
Jimmy: You just described my entire Freshman year.
Me: OMG! The Bloggess just followed me on Twitter! Not a fan page thingy. THE Bloggess.
Jimmy: Really?? (We had a conversation about her earlier so he was genuinely slightly impressed.)
Me: Yes, thanks to your photos with Bob. I will pay you royalties.
Jimmy: And out of spite, I will spend it ALL on earrings.
…Yes, there is still tension in this house. But royalties on zero dollars is zero dollars so at least I don’t have to worry about any new earrings.
And I TOLD YOU I’m related to the Bloggess now. So HA!
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UPDATE: Conversation after Greg and Eric heard me say the Bloggess followed me…
Greg: So you are finally famous now?
Me: Yes, I’m finally famous after 2 whole months of blogging. You want my autograph?
Greg: No.
Eric: I want your autograph.
Me: You do?
Eric: Yes, I need lunch money. So can you put your autograph on a check?
It’s tough being famous…
(Insert much sarcasm here. I don’t actually think my 12 followers constitutes being famous. Ok, a few more than 12. But not famous. Far from famous. Infamous maybe.).
Guess what? You know Hunter S. Thomcat, I’m sure. He’s famous for being Jenny Lawson’s kitten. She talks about him often on The Bloggess. Well, I think we are fostering his long lost twin brother. Bob B. McKitty. I noticed a striking resemblance right away, but after reading her recent blog post I am convinced they are related. You see, Hunter S. Thomcat is trying to kill The Bloggess. She calls him “the silent killer, like carbon monoxide.” You must read about it here (she even has video proof): http://thebloggess.com/2012/10/hes-the-silent-killer-like-carbon-monoxide/#comments.
And, as you can see from the photos below…Bob is just as evil. He is the not so silent killer, like a fart. He has it in for Jimmy. I really worry about Jimmy’s safety.
The two kittens MUST be related!! They have to be! So I’m totally related to the Bloggess now. What? Yes, I am. Huh? Yes, it DOES in fact work that way.
Bob’s modus operandi…
Bob perches and waits for Jimmy to let his guard down.
Then he gives his best innocent look.
Then he goes in for the kill.
Hey, he’s trying to pull out the new piercing. Attack away Bob. Attack away.
I hope whoever adopts Bob is prepared for his “viciousness.”
And yes, I AM related to the Bloggess now. So shut-up about it.
I didn’t have much hope for today since it was a holiday for school but not for work. After the 477th distraction and hearing “we have nothing to eat” for the 329th time, I gave up on getting work done and went to the store to pick up a few essentials.
As I dart into Walmart in my old sweats, with no make-up, having visions of being the subject of a people of Walmart photo, I thought to myself, “I bet I see everyone I know.” I was wrong. I only saw half the people I know. Never fails. (But as long as there are people like this in the world, I think it’s safe to say my 15 minutes of fame won’t be from appearing on “People of Walmart.”)
I pick up enough food to sustain the boys for a couple of hours – well at least one hour – plus some cleaning supplies (the only positive to the kids being in trouble is the huge list of extra chores I get to make for them). That’s all I came for so I head toward the checkout counter.
Somehow by the time I get to the front of the store, I have a cart full. More food (4 hours worth now), more cleaning supplies (thought of more chores) and a $3 t-shirt so I wouldn’t have to do my laundry tonight. Oh, and 2 pumpkins. That was the most exciting thing I bought. Until I went back for one more item…
Things were really looking up. Until I got home and saw the “map.” What??? Vermont Cream is GONE!!!! No!!!!!!!!!!! Why would they get rid of the BEST piece in the box?? Vermont Cream has been my favorite candy for as long as I can remember. Now even my box of chocolate is having a shit day.
I notice a new addition. Damn you “Maple Nut Butter.” You stole my beloved Vermont Cream’s spot! Why would they add that flavor when there is already “Maple Cream” which is just so…average. I wanted to throw it in the trash but was curious what could possibly be good enough to take the spot of perfection. I bit into it and…
It was DEE. LISH. US. Vermont Cream, only smoother. Buttery-er. Yummier. Vermont Cream, I will miss you. We had many good years together. But I guess sometimes you have to accept change. And sometimes change IS good.
Make sure you check out the Raspberry Cream piece. It came pre-smushed. I swear it was like that when I opened the box. Really!
To keep me from eating the entire box, I said I’d share with the family. But I got first choice(s) before they got to take any.
Before I let them have at the box I rearranged all the pieces so they didn’t match the map. Yes, I wanted a bit of revenge for my shit day yesterday.
I found the perfect mug to use while eating my Vermont Cream Maple Nut Butter…I wonder if they sell them at Walmart?
Photo: zazzle.com
Good news today for you also. Now that I got my fix, you should be safe from any other “sweet posts” for a while!
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More people of Walmart…
Nice shirt.
Flames seem to be popular attire…
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When I get stressed, my sweet tooth usually takes over. Recently I have been stressed, but have fought my sweet tooth. I guess since I haven’t been eating my cravings, I’m subconsciously writing them instead! I just realized that all of my recent blog entries except one have in some way been about a dessert item…
Life is a box of brown stuff about Russell Stoverchocolate. But at least that one talks about other “brown stuff” that will ruin the desire to eat anything.
“Easy As Pie” – OK, I didn’t actually write that one. But it was the most recent DP Weekly Writing Challenge about metaphors and similes. I intended to write it but ran out of time.
Makes you wonder what my next post will be??
“I Scream” – a post about my frustration level.
“A Bunch Of Fruitcakes” – an article about my family.
“I Need S’more” – a time management piece.
“Bake The Cake” – a tutorial on the dance moves, including bonus instructions for Drive The Bus.
“You say goodbye. I say Jell-o” – a post to convince you to continue reading my corny jokes.
Photo: iheartcookingclubs.blogspot.com
I think it’s time to replenish my Nutella supply. A spoonful of that will usually satisfy my sweet tooth…and then hopefully I won’t have to change the name of the blog to Sweetopolize.
“Stressed spelled backwards is desserts. Coincidence? I think not!” ~Author Unknown
At least my birthday is this month, so for once I can have my cake and eat it too.
Sorry Forrest, but you are wrong. Like is NOT like a box of chocolates.
If it was like a box of chocolates, the worst that could happen is…well…getting chocolate. Even your least favorite piece has some sweetness.
Even if you see what you are sure is a speck of Vanilla Buttercream peeking through the chocolate coating but, after you pop it into your mouth, realize the white you saw is actually coconut. Disappointing, yes. But it is just coconut. It is still not more than you can chew. You may not enjoy it, but one big gulp and the worst is over.
Life is much harder than that. Life is sometimes not sweet at all. It can be downright sour.
Life has days that are too awful to swallow. Days when the piece of brown in the box is not chocolate at all. Days when you have been handed a shit day.
I’ve had a shit day.
All 4 kids are in trouble. Usually it seems to work out that 1 or 2 kids cause me stress at once, and the others kind of give me a break. Not this time. Three are grounded, one perhaps until he’s 18. And the 4th came home last night with his ears pierced. Without permission. Not professionally done, I might add. He was told he can’t wear them in the house so he sat on the porch in protest. He wasn’t “in the house.” Damn technicality. So 3 can’t leave the house and one can’t enter. I won’t go into further detail but just suffice it to say the earring isn’t the worst thing that happened. And Jim’s “help” with the situation is causing more stress than a 5th child. Shit. Day.
And Mr. Gump says life is like a box of chocolates because “you never know what you’re gonna’ get.” But you CAN know what you are going to get! You can totally cheat. You can smush your grubby little finger right into the piece of chocolate. Don’t like what you see? Put it back! (For future reference, you can even hide all evidence of the “peek” if you make sure you only smush the bottom and careful push the chocolate back into place. Not that I’ve ever done that…)
In life, smushes don’t help. No matter what you see, you are stuck with it. No give backs. You will just have a shit day, plus shit on your hands.
Now, some boxes of chocolate even come with a “map” on the lid showing you what kind of chocolate is in each location. Wouldn’t that be great in life?
“I need an easy day today…chocolate buttercream day, third from the left on the bottom row. Perfect.”
“I can handle some bumps in the road today…Almond Cluster day, top row in the middle.”
“I could use a little pampering…where’s that chocolate truffle day?”
You know what sucks about the “map” though? I usually end up with it upside down in relation to the box and end up getting Orange Cream instead of what I thought I chose. Yeah, that does pretty much sum up my life sometimes too. Orange Cream. Who LIKES Orange Cream anyway???
In life, not only is there no map, you don’t even know what variety your box contains. With a box of chocolates, you at least know your favorite kind IS in the box somewhere. Usually at least two of them. At some point, you WILL get to pick your favorite before your box is empty. You know you have that to look forward to. The best is coming.
In life, there may be none of your favorites at all. You may have a box of nothing but Molasses Chew – tough and not very enjoyable. Or you may have all Vanilla Buttercream – good, but boring after a while. I would love to have a box full of Vermont Cream (best piece of Russell Stover ever). But in reality, I just hope for at least a Caramel and a Maple Nut every once in a while. And very little shit. Please. Not too much shit.
I think I will go buy a box of Russell Stover now. While I don’t agree that life is like a box of chocolates, I do know that a box of chocolates makes me like life a little more. Especially on the days when I feel like I really stepped in it.
I keep hearing so much about some “Read Band Books Week.” Since everyone seems to be talking about it, I thought I should join in and read one. I decided Rock would be a fun band type to choose. The title of this sounds perfect for the occasion…
ROCK RULES: THE ULTIMATE ROCK BAND BOOK by Michele Rosenthal (amazon.com)
What? I misunderstood what they meant?
Oh, I get it. It is “Reed Band Books Week.” Hmmm…well I found this book. Doesn’t sound as interesting. But I guess I will read this…
REED INSTRUMENTS by Jeremy Montagu (tower.com)
Oh, that still isn’t right?
“Read Band Books Weak?” Really? It isn’t very nice to call sisters “WEAK” but I guess I will have to read this instead…
BAND OF SISTERS by Cathy Gohlke (edgyinspirationalromance.com)
Huh? That still isn’t correct??
Dang homophones.
OK, I finally get it now. But geesh, they didn’t even use spell check…
READ BANNED BOOKS WEEK (1×57.com)
Now I guess the next thing you are going to tell me is that there is no such thing as “Tell Band Stories Week???”
Because this one time, at band camp…
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READ WHATEVER YOU LIKE and LIKE WHATEVER YOU READ!
Read a banned book. Read a band book. It should be your choice.
I think I will still choose to read the “Ultimate Rock Band” book. Dude.
Remember the attempted skateboard theft this summer?? If not, you need to read “To Catch a Thief” here before you read any further. It happened again.
Yes, once again I had a run-in with scoundrels. Two this time. Two GIRLS.
I saw them in my car and next thing I knew, I watched them BOLT down the street. They were much shorter than the skateboard thief, and much quicker. They were almost out of sight before I could even blink.
Adrenaline kicked in and I started booking it down the street. Again. Barefoot. Again. (Well, I was wearing flip-flops but, of course, those things are impossible to run in so I kicked them off.) Running like a loon in front of my neighbors. Again.
This time the hooligans didn’t run into the woods. They stayed on the sidewalk so I just kept chasing them. Further than last time. I was panting like a dog again, but so were they. They were getting tired. But I was getting tired faster.
The street is a circle so when we rounded a curve, they were out of sight. I was afraid I lost them. But I couldn’t give up. I HAD to catch them. I just HAD to. They may have thought it was going to be an easy get-away. But they were barking up the wrong tree.
I rounded another curve and saw them again. I started howling “COME HERE! COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!” I guess one had an attack of conscience because she turned around and started heading back towards me. But the other one kept going. What to do now? Catch the one who turned herself in, or keep going for the one who probably instigated the shenanigans??
A man and woman had seen what was transpiring and blocked the sidewalk, not letting the other one get by. I guess she wasn’t feeling as brave without her side-kick, so she also turned around. Both girls came up to me, begging for forgiveness. Not this time. No more Mrs. Nice Guy. I will NOT make this a walk in the park for these two. I will hound them until I’m sure they have learned their lesson.
It was a hairy situation, but the man and woman helped me constrain the girls and another neighbor that was driving by asked if I needed her to fetch some help. (Where was all this help when I was chasing the skateboard thief??) I was having a rough time getting the girls back to my house to face their punishment, so the man offered to help lead one while I made the other follow on my heels. I was so thankful for the assistance, I was the man’s best friend at that moment.
As I looked down at the thugs, it almost seemed as though they were playing a game. Especially the one that seemed to enjoy the chase a little too much. I think the other realized it wasn’t a game though because I heard her whimper.
I made sure to get a photo again. But this time it wasn’t as blurry. I wanted to make sure there was no question about the identity of the culprits. You can tell by looking at their faces who is feeling remorseful and who is destined to a life of crime. Scroll down to see the delinquents…
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Brace yourself…
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It is a shocking image…
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The faces of pure evil…
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Angela’s Most Wanted
The offenders: our escapee dogs, Cookie and Brownie. They may have sweet names…and faces…but don’t let them fool you. They are trouble. With a capital T.
No more “let’s go for a fun car ride” for these two for a while. Who knew the goofy one on the left would slip out of her collar while I was getting her out of the car. And who knew the normally obedient one would follow on the adventure!
Are they thieves though? Yes, in fact they are.
What did they steal, you may ask? My dignity. That’s what.
After running with the big dogs, now I need to hang on the porch.
Don't ask me about my kids or I will Momopolize the conversation!
brand but Jake says it more like Crustyass).
As I dart into Walmart in my old sweats, with no make-up, having visions of being the subject of a people of Walmart photo, I thought to myself, “I bet I see everyone I know.” I was wrong. I only saw half the people I know. Never fails. (But as long as there are people like this in the world, I think it’s safe to say my 15 minutes of fame won’t be from appearing on “People of Walmart.”)
It was DEE. LISH. US. Vermont Cream, only smoother. Buttery-er. Yummier. Vermont Cream, I will miss you. We had many good years together. But I guess sometimes you have to accept change. And sometimes change IS good.
It was a hairy situation, but the man and woman helped me constrain the girls and another neighbor that was driving by asked if I needed her to fetch some help. (Where was all this help when I was chasing the skateboard thief??) I was having a rough time getting the girls back to my house to face their punishment, so the man offered to help lead one while I made the other follow on my heels. I was so thankful for the assistance, I was the man’s best friend at that moment.