Thursday, March 7, 2013

I Killed the Crockpot But I Didn't Shoot the Refugee

So today was the big day for my high school kids. The entire school dresses like turn of the century immigrants and they go through the processing at Ellis Island (the school gym) like their ancestors did. We spent yesterday getting costumes together.

The kids asked me to make Russian Piroshki, which are fried meat pies. So after working my patotie off on costumes, I stayed up until midnight prepping the meat, eggs, onions, etc so the actual cooking of the pies would be easy for this morning.

My youngest son, Gabe.






This is my middle daughter Ellie----->

 This morning I was up at dark o'clock to make the piroshki. I rolled dough and filled pies and fried them up. There was plenty of time, we even had five minutes to sit before we had to load up the crock pot and drive to school.

We didn't make it out the door. (insert scene of wild panic). Glass was everywhere, the floor, the counters and most of all it was fallen into the peroshki.

The phone rang and my youngest had forgotten her lunch. The dogs were in the glass trying to get the meat.

Well, by then we were running late. The kids piled into the car, I grabbed the dogs, one on a leash and one without, threw a lunch together for youngest daughter, and made it to the car.

Since bringing food is a part of the grade for Ellis Island, the high school kids were freaked.

I dropped the immigrants at their school and sped over to the grade school to drop off lunch. Then The dogs and I went to the grocery, picked up more ingredients, and sped home. But when I got here, the Lowe's truck was unloading my new washing machine. So I parked across the street. One dog was on the leash, one was under my arm like a purse and my other arm had the groceries.

The dog's hind leg got stuck in the waistband of my sweat pants and I pretty much mooned the delivery guys on my way in the door. Seriously, I did. They may never marry having had a preview of the coming attractions of middle age.



So then I had to roll out and make another four dozen Piroshki. Of course, since the crock pot was smashed and gone to Jesus, there was the ginormous hunt for the missing electric pancake griddle. (It was the only thing big enough to heat a turkey-roaster pan full of meat pies-- because cold fried pie is nasty.)

Finally, I actually managed to deliver the Piroshki to school. Now the immigrants won't starve and I may be a hero.
















Noon: This just in. Middle daughter tweeted me that the piroshki was the first food to be eaten gone! We win at lunch.

3PM: The pancake griddle evidently caught a chair on fire. 0-O

5 comments:

  1. omg, your blog title is hilarious and very timely as 4yo recently got a sheriff badge and wears it around singing "I shot the sheriff, but I didn't shoot the deputy" ... which, come to think of it, would probably get her suspended, or arrested or something if she sang that at school ... hmmmm

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  2. Oh wow. You should get a supermom award for this.

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  3. Bahahahahaa! Guess that is one way to tip the delivery guys.

    Food is part of the grade? Geez. Talk about homework for the parents not the kids! But what a fun event. Your kids looked awesome.

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  4. Can't decide whether to laugh, cry, or yell at the school for making food part of the grade.

    You rock.

    But let's be honest, you also set a lot of stuff on fire or blow things up--which is one of the many reasons I love you. :)

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  5. Oh, Julie - what a day! I am still laughing (sorry) and admiring your perseverance at the same time. Your kids are lucky to have a mom like you, that's all I can say! And I'm sure the Lowe's delivery guys will get over it - when my husband used to do door-to-door sales, women would answer the door naked or in see-through negligees and invite him in. I think seeing your behind will not phase the delivery guys at all. :-)

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