But We Could Have Been So Good Together...

Some things are just good together.

Peanut butter and jelly.

Wine and cheese.

Children and benedryl.

Other things, though, might seem to be good together, but come to find out, they just aren't. Some things, in fact, are quite disgusting together. And sometimes, a rushed mother of three trying to fix dinner before she runs out the door to work isn't really the best judge of what things might be good together, and what things are, in fact, horrendous.

But now I know: Just because the sweet potatoes and chicken were good together last night doesn't mean that they will be good together tonight...in a casserole.

OK, so maybe there were a couple other ingredients thrown in. And there may have been a blender involved. Because if sweet potatoes are good mashed, why wouldn't they be good pureed?

Yeah. This was not my finest culinary moment.

The thing is, I didn't know it wasn't my finest culinary moment, because in between checking homework, and breaking up fights, and checking the clock to see how many minutes I had before I had to find some grown up clothes to throw on so I could go talk to grown ups about their grown up problems, I was too busy being creative in the kitchen.

That was my first mistake.

I recently rediscovered my blender/dicing/chopping thingy, and I've been making great use of it all week. Smoothies. And soup. And...well, other kinds of smoothies. Come to think of it, maybe it's just a smoothie and soup maker. But for some reason, in my late afternoon/almost time for work haze, it seemed like the perfect way to whip last nights leftovers into something that didn't resemble last nights leftovers.

I'm pretty sure I was successful on that one.

I have to admit, I was pretty proud of myself. and my culinary creativity. I even made cornbread from scratch to go with it.

Good thing.

I turned off the oven as I headed out the door to work, and asked N to tell Jimmy that dinner was ready for them to eat.

I came home two and a half hours later. The boys were in bed. N was staring at me. Jimmy was looking at me like something bad had happened. Really bad. More precisely, like I had done it. I hadn't scratched the car lately. I was pretty sure all the bills were paid. Why was he looking at me like that?

"Go ahead. Have some dinner", he gestured to the kitchen. The casserole was on the stove, though it looked like someone had eaten. (There was also a lego in it, but that didn't really phase me). Then I saw the three bowls on the table. Full. I started to take a bite, but the smell overpowered me before I could.

Um, wow.

How could I make something so bad and not realize it?

I managed to take a bite anyway, just to show him that it wasn't as bad as it smelled.

It couldn't possibly be.

But no, I was wrong.

It was every bit as bad as it smelled. And then some.

Who knew that things that were so good together last night could be so bad together tonight?

Jimmy stared at me, obviously disgusted. His look said it all. He doesn't ask for much from me in the kitchen. Meat. Potatoes. He doesn't even ask for vegetables.

"What?" I asked him, "You've never failed at anything?"

He shook his head. "No. Not like that I haven't".

I couldn't really argue with him.

N tried to make me feel better. "It's OK, mom. O ate it. I think it's because he's not that far away from being a baby and, well, it was kind of like baby food".

Oh.

She tried again. "I didn't even mind the smell! I mean, I'm used to having two stinky brothers".

So sweet, this girl. She always knows how to cheer me up.

I dumped the whatever-the-hell-that-was into the trash, as N and I sat down to eat.

Because some things are always good together.

Like me and my girl.

And cereal and milk.