For instance, I can probably figure out how to connect the PVC piping to the Y-juncture in order to re-plumb my sump pump. More than likely I can figure out how to cut the pipe at the appropriate angle and seal it correctly before installing. However, it’s unlikely that I would remember to turn the water off before doing so.
And thus, my occasional asshatery.
I get so caught up in the tough things that I forget all about the easy, obvious stuff.
So, now that we’re in the new house, I’m trying diligently to get more healthy food into my family. And since I’m saving money, that means cooking.
I can’t cook, did you know this?
It’s too easy.
So I decided to make some Sweet and Spicy Sweet Potatoes. I’ll ruin the story and let you know that they turned out delicious.
But that’s actually not the point of this story.
The point is, I can’t cook because I am an asshat.
I cut and prepped the potatoes. I mixed them all together in the sweet and spicy goodness.
Then, I proceeded to put my ass on as a hat and dumped all of that deliciousness onto a cookie sheet. For that is how you roast things, no?
Ah, no.
The potatoes were in the oven for about 2 minutes before David called out “K?? Are these supposed to be smoking this much?”
To which I responded with a whithering glare. If you do not like the way I am cooking, do it yourself, man.
And therein lies the problem. David is a good cook. He just isn’t into the whole “vegetable” thing. So I’m trying to take over that initiative and let him focus on meats and cheeses and the like. But his skill means that I am intensely sensitive about any criticism. Really, this sensitivity does not put me in a terribly flattering light.
But then, neither does wearing my ass for a hat.
So, naturally, I choose to let my anger simmer and the potatoes burn.
David says “Hon? It’s getting pretty smoky in here.”
With a huff, I enter the kitchen. And my stomach drops. For lo and behold, it IS getting quite smoky in there. I open the oven door to find lovely roasting potatoes. And oil pouring off the cookie sheet onto the bottom of the oven to burn.
It is then that a light goes on above my head: roasting pan. Which I could have used for the potatoes I was roasting. Which up until that moment I had legitimately thought was only for meat.
So, we turned off the oven. Waited for it to cool. I removed my head from my butt. I clean the oven. I re-roasted.
This time, in a roasting pan.
And the potatoes turned out to be delicious.
The anger I had been simmering however? Turned into a disappointing humiliation stew.
LMAO
I, too, tend to overlook the easy in anticipation of the difficult. I like to think it's because I'm a “Big Picture” kind of girl… Think globally and all.
But really it's because I'm an asshat.
Oh boy I'm laughing. I do the same stuff! And my husband can cook too, which makes it worse!
It's not dinner until the smoke alarm goes off!
Oooh, KLZ! I could “hear” you say “It is then that a light goes on above my head: roasting pan. Which I could have used for the potatoes I was roasting. “
I love that you can laugh at yourself, though. That's why you're so cool.
OMG. I do stuff like this all.the.time. LMAO!
Perhaps my blog would be funnier if I start sharing my stories of “ooopsie…”
Actually…just thought of one. I'll go stash it in my drafts…
Wow. This would be me!! And my husband is the same way. Really, it's amazing we have done any of the stuff we've done and not killed ourselves.
Oh, and by the way, my hat is HUGE.
So funny! At least you figured it out before you ruined them!
I, unfortunately, can totally relate. I'm also very literal and have a story similar to your roasting pan story. Mine has to do with mashing potatoes.
So my hat just might be bigger than most…
But… You won't make that mistake again! You are a better cook now than you were before the asshatery of oil burning. There's lots of hope. Once upon a time I couldn't make rice.
I tend to do very similar things, without the oven cleaning part, so every time the oven goes on the smoke alarm does as well.
This comment has been removed by the author.
I think everyone has “asshat” moments like this on occasion. Glad I popped in to read about this one. The next time I do something of this nature I'll be able to reflect back on this post and realize I'm not the only asshat in the world.
(truly enjoyed the post here)
Edit: As you can see I had to submit this comment twice due to asshattery actions, or lack of grammar on my part.
That is not exactly how it went down! But funny the way you tell it. Not so funny when your brand new house is about to burn down. Oil, oven and a flat pan can never work together. Honey, you may self admittedly not be a great cook by come on simple eighth grade chemistry. I strongly suggest that we make sure the fire extinguisher is working tonight and that you know where the baking soda is.
If the kitchen is not supposed to fill with smoke, I've been doing it wrong for years.
I love you and you are wrong you are a good cook. I just think I enjoy food and the process of cooking more. I think it is time for your famous corned beef.
One time, in my early 20s, my boyfriend at the time and I decided to make beef stew in the crockpot. (This is definitely a long time ago since I haven't eaten meat in like 17 years). Anyway, all the ingredients ended up being pretty expensive to my just-out-of-college self. But we added everything in, including a clove of garlic, and let it simmer for 6 hours. And when we opened the lid, we realized something very important: a clove of garlic is not the same as a BULB of garlic, which is what we'd added. Bless the boyfriend's heart, he picked out the spines et al and actually ate some of the stew.
In my defense, garlic is NOT LABELED. How would I know?
Umm…I do stuff like that.
And to make it better, I stomp around the house scolding everyone else for doing stupid, brainless, clueless things.
And then what do I do? Turn the broiler in instead of oven, turn on the wrong burner, forget to take plastic wrappers off before microwaving…
I could go on, but then I'd need more medication.
This is so, so unfair….wouldn't you think a Roasting Pan just might be for an actual Roast? The one that kills me is the Jelly Roll pan. Never once have I made a jelly roll, probably wouldn't recognize one if I saw it, but you can roast a mean cookie on it.
I love your asshat usage, by the way!
LOL!!! Love it! I am the cook here but hubby does somehow end up critiquing me all the time.
Well now I'm just friggin hungry. Love me some sweet potatoes! NICE use of AssHat. Beautiful, even. I could *just* picture the ass and the hat. :p
I am a work in progress in the kitchen. It's been a slow run.
Oh, I can't stand it when my husband “helps” me with meals! If he wants to proffer advice, then HE can cook the dang supper.
And when I screw up, I stomp my foot really hard and slam any and all cabinet doors. Just makes me feel better.
we all get to wear our asses for hats sometimes. as long as we take them off occasionally and wear them like we're supposed to.
I NEVER wear my ass as a hat. I'm way too smart for that!
I love your willingness to poke fun at yourself. Humor is a necessity to surviving life, for sure.
Thanks for stopping by Kristin. Have a fabulous day. Oh, and happy baking!
Kristi, Live and Love…Out Loud
@TweetingMama
Look -let's just agree to wear our asshats well and call it day, ok?
Swati
I don't ever take my asshat off. In fact, it may not even be a hat.
Once I was following some simple instructions for soup – it was one of those soup-in-a-jar things, where all you do is add water and stock. It called for something like 2 cups of water. I read the word CUP and somehow got QUARTS.
I went to find my husband to tell him we didn't have a pot big enough for the soup. He took one look and said, “Honey, let's remove your asshat and look at the recipe again. There we go. Asshat gone. Now isn't that better?” Or something like that…
Some days I wonder how I manage.
Been there, done that. I can't cook worth a hill of burned potato oil, but my asshat is off to you for a fabulous post. “Let my anger simmer and the potatoes burn” – beautiful. As is the last sentence. Just a work art.
This is why if I could eat cereal for each and every meal I totally would.
I also make an ass out of myself quite regularly in the kitchen. There's no shame in it.
I know you're a Don and all, but out of all the great asshat posts I've read this week, this is my favorite. I love that you can admit you don't take criticism well. Me either.
Keep posting stuff like this i really like it
Pretty nice post. I just stumbled upon your blog and wanted to say that I have really enjoyed browsing your blog posts. In any case I’ll be subscribing to your feed and I hope you write again soon!