This week, as usual, has been crazy busy since I'm still juggling jobs and obligations, Blissdom, meetings, etc. On Saturday I squeezed grocery shopping in after a trip into Vancouver with Hubs to buy some weird tool thing that he needed to build Kevin a desk, and I was so proud of myself. Once a week shopping was DONE, baby. No reason to go back throughout the week and I was ready. Weekly menu finished, have everything in the cupboards, just time to cook! That has been a total struggle but this week, I had it DOWN.
Monday there was a meeting after work. Actually there were meetings on Tuesday and Wednesday too, which meant dinner was late. We might strike you as a bit of a weird family, but we generally eat dinner at 5 pm every night. It's a routine that goes years back, and by now the clock hovers around 5 and I find myself with two guys in the kitchen lifting pot lids, sniffing, and declaring their hunger.
Oddly enough, the latest dinner turned out to be on Sunday.
I had plans for Sunday-sure, I'm still working at the toy store, but the plan was to come home and cook up a storm with all my stocked up groceries. The recipes were printed off and stuck on the fridge, and I was in for a night of cooking. Dinner that night was going to be a big ol' pot of Jamie Oliver's Chili Con Carne. Onions, carrots, peppers, and garlic sizzled away, filling up the kitchen with an amazing aroma. I reached into the cupboard to get some spices, and stopped short.
My cumin was missing. I knew I had cumin. I use it all the time and more specifically, I knew it was in a mini mason jar and labeled with my Mabel's Labels spice labels. How does cumin go missing?
45 minutes later I had torn apart my entire pantry, stacking baking supplies, spilling split peas on the floor, all the while cursing and calling for the cumin. I can't make chili without cumin, it's just wrong. Go to the store? No. I have cumin and dammit, I'm going to FIND IT.
This was seriously cutting into my cooking time. Should I go to the store? Most of the things I planned to make this week required cumin. I couldn't make the chili-and had already started! Soon I was cranky, tossing things around, muttering under my breath, hungry, and growly.
WHERE WAS MY DAMN CUMIN?!
Storming by Kevin's room, I glanced in the door and there, perched innocently on the floor, was a tupperware full of spice jars. Red pepper flakes, Italian seasoning, and cumin.
Teenagers steal cash from their Mom's purses, liquor from the cabinet, cigarettes from Dad, and mine? The kid of a food blogger?
He pilfers my spice cupboard.
I forgot to mention my very adult-like handling of the infraction-I stole his laptop power cord and hid it, then laughed hysterically as I watched him root around and become increasingly frustrated as he couldn't find it. It seems that Kev went out in the bush for a hike, as usual, and had brought along his camping cooking gear and had made himself and a friend some lunch.