Momnesia

Pre-Thanksgiving Desperation

Augusta, Ga. - Serving utensils. Weeks of careful menu preparation for a gathering that grew overnight from 8 to 13, and it will all be foiled by an inability to get food from cooking container to plate.

"Crap!" I said to my husband. "It was the ONE thing I kept reminding myself to do: Buy the frickin' serving utensils that go with our silverware."

"I'm sure we can find something," he said, mildly amused.

"Well, there's these that were a wedding gift, but I'm just not going to have the time to polish silverware."

Google to the rescue! (Hi, Rupert Murdoch. Hi, Bing. Not falling for your evil plan)

"It says that we boil this together," Scott says, dumping baking soda and salt on the counter, then filling a pot with water.

He stops, his heinie sticking out of a cabinet: "Uh oh."

"What?"

"Where's the foil?"

"Uhhh..."

"It needs the aluminum foil for the elec- elect- for the thing to happen."

Crap. We search. No foil. We think. Heh. Great, now the kitchen is filled with smoke. I begin to pout a little.

"HEY!" I exclaim, and begin to frantically search the kitchen. "How about this?"

Yes. We crumpled a beer can in with this concoction, set it to boil, and laughed heartily. No WAY this was going to work! But it was too funny not to try.

Before: The never-before-polished wedding silver












After: A husband who may be impossible to live with for at least three days.





Do ya see Sir Smug-a-lot there? Yeah, fine, genius-boy. Your plan worked. But it was MY beer can idea!