Hell’s Kitchen

jillsmo is a mom of two boys who blogs at  Yeah. Good times.  She is, in a word, audacious.  This is not your momma’s blog.  That is, unless your momma’s blog was written by an irreverent truck driver.  These two stories come from her apparently accident-prone kitchen.

In the Mornin’. . .

The scene:  We’re in the kitchen.  The kids are both asking endless questions:  “Is breakfast ready yet?”  “What can I eat while I wait for breakfast?”  “How many more minutes until breakfast is ready?”  “Why isn’t there food in my mouth right now?” etc.  I’m trying to be patient and explain that just because 30 seconds ago I spoke aloud the words, “I’m going to go make breakfast,” it doesn’t mean that it’s time to eat already (I mean, come ON, guys, at least let me make coffee!).  They’re milling around and I’m emptying the dishwasher and I turn around, with a frying pan in my hand, and Child 2 has suddenly materialized out of nowhere directly in front and underneath me like some kind of freakin’ poltergeist and I SMACK him right on top of his head with the frying pan.  It made this perfect THWOK sound.  And then I YELL, which definitely made things worse, “OH MY GOD!”  Breakfast preparation was subsequently delayed by another 10 minutes.

In the Evenin’. . .

Tonight at dinner, Child 2 was complaining about having to eat chicken (don’t ask).  He was saying something about how he wanted me to trust him in the area of chicken eating; not entirely sure what that was about, but it was one of those moments that required some careful negotiating because the tears were welling up and he was having a “want to be a grownup” moment involving chicken, and right then I moved my hand in a weird way, I guess, and accidentally spilled his water glass (ice included) all over the front of him.*

*Nine out of 10 child psychologists agree that pouring ice water on a child will hamper the “chicken is good” argument-resolution process.**

**This is complete crap made up by the WWM’s website.