Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Tossed Salad

I've been pretty good about keeping the house clean this week--for the whole three days we've had so far. I even cleaned the floor yesterday and, as it turned out, it was a very good thing I did!

Andrew worked late yesterday so I made myself a lovely meal of honey-garlic chicken. I made the recipe up on the fly, which is always a gamble, but it worked out and tasted great. I put the chicken in a tortilla shell with tomatoes, red pepper, and lettuce. I never get to eat meals like that when Andrew is home because out of every thing I just listed he'd only eat the tortilla shell and (maybe) the lettuce.

I thoroughly enjoyed my dinner but still had some leftover chicken when Andrew came home. He fixed himself a grilled cheese sandwich of sorts and I made myself a salad, using up the leftover chicken, which Andrew thought was disgusting. It wasn't--it was quite delicious.

With my first forkful I stabbed a cheery tomato. It exploded and sprayed me with its seeds and juice.

"Did you spill?" Andrew said, mockingly.

"Not really," I said, "The tomato attacked me."

"Right," he said, "It attacked you..."

I simpered at him and began to pull my legs up underneath me on the chair. No one in my family can sit normally for very long. We are too bony and begin to ache if we can't shift around. We are often found sitting on our chairs cross-legged, squatting, or anywhere in between. This particular instance, I was going for more of a squatting position when all of a sudden my salad went flying up into the air. I had accidentally bumped my elbow with my knee.

Andrew and I watched it fly through the air in slow motion, raining lettuce, cheese, tomatoes, red pepper, and my beautiful, beautiful chicken all over the kitchen floor.

"Did you spill?" Andrew asked again, with much more amusement than necessary, "Looks like someone's got the dropsies!"

We were confident enough in my floor-cleaning capabilities that we scooped the food up off the floor and back into the bowl. Ten second rule, right? I only had to pick off a few fluffies--otherwise it was perfectly fine, and quite tasty.


  1. I can't believe you publicly admitted to eating off the floor!! What did your mother teach you?

  2. I believe she taught me "Waste not, want not."

    And "a broken cookie [or whathaveyou] tastes the same as a non-broken one."

    And I believe she also taught me the 10-second rule...although, that might have just been an older-sibling thing.

  3. LOL The truth emerges, Myrna!

  4. I don't have a problem with her eating off the floor--it is admitting it to the whole world!