Meatwads and car seats and tooth decay, OH MY!

Alternate Title: In Which I Ramble In An Almost Completely Incoherent Fashion, ENJOY!

Alternate Alternate Title: Shut Up, Austin.

We survived Thanksgiving! I know, you are shocked.

Turns out making A Big Fat Deal about the recipe! And the grocery stores closing! And traaaaaffic!! Means that we will find an acceptable recipe approximately five minutes after we start looking, make it to the fairly uncrowded grocery store well before closing, and traffic? What traffic?

I need to remember this for future holiday disaster-avoiding.

Anyway, we ended up making Florentine meatballs, which were pretty okay. Not my favorite recipe, to be honest. But they were wine-soaked so it wasn’t a TOTAL waste. Also our conversation at the store re: how much to make went a little something like this:

Zack: Three pounds of lean ground beef’s on sale. Do you think that will be enough?

Me: No one is going to eat three pounds of meatballs. This is a SUPPLEMENTARY entree. Everyone’s going to want turkey.

Zack: I don’t know, there’s going to be like 20 people there. I’m not sure this will be enough.

Me: Dude, I’m telling you. Three pounds is too much.

Zack: I’m going to call my mom. She’ll know.

Me: Much flagrant eye-rolling.

(Makes the call)

(Hangs up phone)

Zack: She thinks it’s too much. I’m going to buy it anyway!

He then proceeded to spend TWO HOURS browning each of the four zillion wads of meat (they sort of became more thick patties than balls post-frying pan) before they could go into the crock pot.

I think about 10 meatballs were consumed by the 16 of us present and everyone was very complimentary.

However. We forgot to put the rest away during clean up. The 3.7 zillion leftover meatwads were out all night and thusly trashed the next morning.


Speaking, though, of, um…


I have no good transition here so I will just soldier on.

Driving around with someone else’s infant in your car is pretty terrifying. Also guess what? The car we just purchased in April and planned to own until it was dead or we were? Doesn’t so much fit with the car seats. My knees were jammed practically into my eyeballs with Kellen in the seat behind me. I could not even get the car seat into the seat behind Zack’s because his damn legs are so long and he had to be able to do important stuff, like brake, when necessary.

But baby-sitting Kellen was really fun and an important reminder that when we have kids my clothes will be permanently stained, soiled (by bodily fluids not my own) and stretched-out. Good times!

And finally, Ode to a Molar.

You fucking suck, $400 tooth!


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