Search This Blog

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Did you look....REALLY?!

So when you ask your husband to help you look for something, does he really?  We were looking for our daughters other shoe, he opened the closet and looked but didn't touch anything.  I asked him; 'Did you look under the stuff on the floor?' 
LB:  'No, I'm going to go look in the toy room now.'


Me: 'Yeah but if you looked better, the shoe could be in the closet and you wouldn't have to look in the other room.'


LB:  'Just be happy that I'm helping.'


Me: 'If you're only doing a half ass job, you're not helping.  I'm still going to have to look in that closet if that's where the shoe is.'


If you're going to help, then help all the way, don't just do enough to get credit for it,  I'll still have to do it right!  Grrrrr!

YUM! YUM!

London Broil with Cherry-Balsamic Sauce

Ingredients

  • 1/3 cup dry red wine
  • 1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
  • 2 tablespoons cherry preserves
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • Freshly ground pepper to taste
  • 1 1/2 pounds London broil, trimmed
  • 3 tablespoons finely chopped shallot
  • 1 teaspoon extra-virgin olive oil
  • 2 teaspoons butter
Directions
Whisk wine, vinegar, cherry preserves, garlic, salt and pepper in a small bowl. Place meat in a shallow glass dish. Pour the marinade over the meat and turn to coat. Cover and marinate in the refrigerator, turning several times, for at least 20 minutes or up to 8 hours.
Remove the meat from the marinade. Pour the marinade into a small saucepan; add shallot and set aside. Brush a ridged grill pan or heavy skillet with oil; heat over medium-high heat. Add the meat and cook for 10 to 12 minutes per side for medium-rare, depending on thickness, or until it reaches desired doneness. (It may appear that the meat is burning but don't worry, it will form a pleasant crust.) Transfer the meat to a cutting board; let rest for 5 minutes.
While the meat is cooking, bring the marinade to a boil; cook over medium-high heat for 5 to 7 minutes, or until it is reduced to about 1/2 cup. Remove from the heat; add butter and whisk until melted.
Slice the meat thinly against the grain. Add any juices on the cutting board to the sauce. Serve the meat with the sauce.
Ingredient note: London broil is a thicker cut of steak that benefits from the tenderizing effects of a marinade.



I served this with homemade blue cheese mashed potatoes and garlic baked asparagus.  It was AMAZING!

Friday, September 17, 2010

Fawk You Fridays!

BWS tips button


1) Fawk you bills, for never going away. There's just never enough money to fully cover you.

2) Fawk you pedicure because I messed you up, right after I got you.

3) Fawk you headaches, for never going away this week.

4) Fawk you work outs, for sooo not happening this week, or even this month, or last.....

5) Fawk you to my 2 best friends who never told me or even txt me on my Birthday. Here, I got somethin' for ya'll....



Who pissed in your wheaties this week?

We're linking up at Boobies, Babies & A Blog

Sunday, September 12, 2010

My husband is deaf, I'm convinced

An actual conversation that took place about 1 week before my birthday:

Mr K: Do you want one of those e-readers for your birthday?

J: No, it would be cool, but I don’t travel much and plus you have to pay like 10 bucks to download each book, so I think I will just get the old fashioned books from the library….we don’t need to spend money on that. BUT I have been telling you other things that I want for a couple months now.

Mr. K: Like what?


J: Like the pictures I txt you of rings. A bicycle. A new fancy tree for the front yard….stuff like that, I tell you stuff I want all the time.


Mr K: Oh.

So, on my birthday, I take the kids to Oregon for school shopping in which Mr K had the ENTIRE day to himself, at home. Did he run to the store to get me a birthday card? Negative. Did he run to the store for an energy drink and smokes? Check.


So then, about a week AFTER my birthday, he calls me from somewhere and says “ The e-reader I wanted to get you, the store was sold-out”

WHAT????!!!!!!

See? I'm convinced. These types of conversations happen ALL the time!

Do you ladies have the same selective hearing problems with your hubby's?

Friday, September 10, 2010

Did you wash your hands with soap?

It’s Wednesday night, and my husband and I have been lying in bed for 20 minutes and I’m just about asleep when he rolls over and I feel the tell-tale ‘lets get it on’ touch. My first thought is, why did you wait until NOW to want to do it? You couldn’t come on to me when we first came to bed? Now I’m just about asleep and have to decide, am I going to be a nice wife and give it up, or am I going to be an ice queen and say no? I like to think of myself as a nice wife so, we start kissing and in just a few minutes, things really start to get hot and heavy. Before I know it I can feel his hand slipping closer and closer to my special place and my mind starts to race; I’m imagining all the things he might have touched before he came to bed. Light switches, the toilet seat, his shoes, his socks….THE DOGS! Instantly my hand grabs his and I ask, ‘did you wash your hands with soap?’ His head falls back with a groan and he tells me, ‘You’re killing the mood!’ I tell him what will really kill the mood is if he hasn’t washed his hands and in two days I get a nasty little infection because he didn’t want me to ‘kill the mood’ for him. Begrudgingly he gets up, washes his hands then comes back to bed. Yeah, he was right, it killed the mood. We still manage to get it done but it was all off. What he doesn’t understand is that taking care of my hoo hoo is like taking care of an infant. You wouldn’t touch and infant with dirty hands because you don’t want it to get sick, well, our special bits are the same, they can get ‘sick’ if we don’t keep them clean. I don’t go to the salon and spend an hour in agony getting waxed so that I’m clean and pretty for him so that he can rub his dirty hands all over it. It’s not a self cleaning oven! I have to maintain it so that it stays well…clean, it doesn’t just happen on its own. Men never appreciate all we do for them; tan, wax, pluck, shave, mani, pedi…it’s a lot of work. He tells me, ‘I don’t expect you to do all that’ but I know, he doesn’t want a pasty white, funky toed, bushy wife in bed, he wants a sex goddess. Well, I’m not a sex goddess, I’m a working mom and wife and all I want is to not have to ask did you wash your hands with soap?’