I had a Miss Hannigan moment this morning.
It started with me spending 45 minutes to gently simmer some Irish oatmeal. Mush is what my mom would have called it. I prefer porridge. It's more, cozy-cottage-breakfast-by-the-fireside-on-a-chill-spring-morning, and less orphan-on-a-raw-wood-bench.
So, back to my drama. The porridge was peaking just about the time Little was going to bed for her morning nap. I sprinkled it with some brown sugar, trickled in some milk and, for the final flourish...wait for it...garnished the pot with golden raisins. The Queen would have been proud to eat this mush.
Then I lost it! Don't ask me how. I ran around the house looking on all the likely surfaces over and over. I even looked in the fridge. Time passed and I was only too aware of the fleeting shelf-life of oatmeal as I muttered, getting colder, GETTING COLDER!
I finally found it. In my crafts cupboard.
Just in time.
4 comments:
The issue isn't really whether it's mush or porridge. It's whether or not I may have some more, please.
This story made me smile. I'm glad you found it in time!
Oh, Krista...
better than me, I spilled logan's oatmeal mixed with peanut butter all over the floor,cupboards,and fridge, a few days ago while I had shoved it on top of the ice maker in the fast freeze area of our freezer to HELP it cool faster. my girls aren't patient enough to let it cool its self. that was a fun one to clean up. I was real careful not to spill the second round!
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