A Perilous Saturday

So many things happened yesterday that could have ended badly...

We went to Wal-Mart of all places, on the Saturday before Christmas -- the busiest shopping day of the year. This was just asking for torture, but it couldn't be avoided. I only needed 2 items and since Justin was home sick, I had both girls with me. But I was blessedly surprised at the ease of the trip. Not needing to browse at all helped...as did the fact that every cashier lane was open. I'd never seen this before -- it was a corporate holiday miracle. Granted, the lanes were all filled, but with only one or two customers each, everything moved quickly. Narrow escape number one.

While at the store, I caught Lauren standing up -- all the way up -- in the cart's seat. I usually buckle her in for this very reason, but on such a quick trip, I forgot about it. As I was turned away once, I heard a gentle voice behind me say, "Ma'am?" I looked up and a worried elderly lady was pointing to my cart, seeming to have forgotten how to speak. She just gestured until I turned around to see Lauren doing a little tap-dance in the seat...dangerously close to toppling over the edge. I lunged to her side, sat her back down, and buckled her in tightly. Duh. Narrow escape number two.

At home, Lauren got into my not-yet-unpacked box of baking supplies from the baking party I attended on Friday. She found the bottle of red food-coloring among all the other non-dangerous, non-staining possibilities, and played happily with it. She'd opened the box, pulled out the bottle, and was shaking it while dancing around the house. When I caught on to the situation, she'd just begun using it as a pretend baby bottle, sucking on the cap and 'drinking' deeply. She was terribly offended when I confiscated her toy, but I sighed in relief that the cap was well attached. Narrow escape number three.

At my parents' house that night, I was making dinner for us. A favorite: Ugly Naked Chicken. (Basically, this is just baked chicken pieces with a sticky, sweet sauce added a few minutes before it's done.) My mom and I were both excited for the meal; my dad was cooking himself scallops, which neither of us wanted to eat. When the time came, I pulled out the oven rack holding the pan and bent down to pour the hot, saucy mixture over the chicken. My narrow escapes were all used up; as the last few drops fell down, the glass pan suddenly burst with a loud, shattering POP. The sweet sauce was puddled among glass shards and now-inedible chicken in the bottom of the oven. After a quick clean up, my mom improvised with some hamburger patties, but we were both as shattered as the pan...that chicken was going to be goooooood.

But, of all the things that almost went horribly wrong, I'm glad the last one was the only real casualty. Stressful shopping, hurt children, stained carpet, furniture, and toddler...these things all would have been worse than the broken pan and ruined dinner.

I can say that though, because it's not my oven which now needs to be deep cleaned. I do so love cooking at other people's houses.



Edited to add: Today at mom's house, my girls accidentally knocked over her Christmas tree, purposefully dumped out a decorative sleigh full of potpurri, and somehow dismantled a candle snuffer. We may be banned from Christmas Day festivities...