About That Cobbler of Yours.....

As I sat in my room this morning, texting with my mother (who is on her first honeymoon ~ yes, ladies and gentlemen, you read that correctly.... her FIRST honeymoon... I will discuss that in another posting... but I am getting off the original subject of this posting) about the end of summer, my younger son, Tyler, stuck his head in my room and said, "About that cobbler of yours, Mom..."


Now, I am sure that in a scant few years, I will be hearing the dreaded words, "About that car of yours, Mom....," but I was not prepared for the cobbler comment this morning. Let me provide some background here by letting you all know that we are a family of culinary artists, albeit wanna-bes at times. And this holds true for breakfast during the summer, when I am wont to tell my sons that there are frozen biscuits in the freezer, pound cakes on the cake plates, and assorted cereals in the pantry. I am not the best Mama when it comes to cooking breakfast. But I have tons of other wonderful talents (I keep saying that over and over to myself and praying I don't end up on Maury one day... if I get a free trip to NYC and then am asked to remove my shoes as soon as I arrive at the spa, I will know I have failed.). But, back to this morning. It seems that my sons and their spend the night company decided to make pancakes this morning, which, in and of itself was not a problem. The problem occurred when they attempted to turn on the stove. There seemed to be an engineering dispute on which knob operated which eye. And the one they agreed upon just happened to be the one upon which a delicious berry cobbler rested ~ may it now rest in peace. But, once the charred mess was removed from the house (and I was made painfully aware that it is time to change the batteries in my smoke detectors... or feed the dogs even better, as they barked and whined louder than any detector I've ever known!) the boys made some delicious pancakes. They may have quite a future at Waffle King or Huddle House!


Now, I also have to admit that my sons also love home cooked meals (but they will beg for take out if they can get it). In all honesty, I did not purchase and cook Hamburger Helper for them until about 3 weeks ago. That is not because I have anything against HH, oh no... I survived college on it, my dears. It was just that I had never thought to buy it. I made meals with venison (yes, you read that correctly ~ most of which I took down myself... there is no better way to relieve stress, let me tell you!) and cooked meals my Mama or Geneva or Bernice or my Mamaw taught me. But I bought Hamburger Helper with Tyler... and he thinks I am the best Mama ever ~ almost as incredible as my friend Mary Alice who is Mama to Tyler's friends T, E, and J. But, I have to tell you the most hilarious thing of all to come from my buying HH.... Day before yesterday I was making some for lunch and asked Tyler to choose which kind. He studied the boxes, and finally said, "Make this one. We need to keep the Cheeseburger Macaroni for a special occasion. You never know when we might have important guests." I kid you not! I bit my tongue and did my best to be just as serious as he when I replied, "Absolutely! We must always save our best for guests."


This is just one story from today.... I must go prepare lunch and change the dressing on Jessie-dog's hurt paw. There will be more.... and not just ramblings from the events of the day. Oh, no.... There are stories from the past must needs be told. And told they shall be.

Until then....


B
"Queen of All Knowledge" in my own mind!