Oh, yummy, yummy, yummy....

My sisters are here for a visit. On Tuesday night, one of them took over my all-time most-hated chore.

Cooking dinner.

I would do laundry, clean the cat boxes, and unclog toilets rather than cooking dinner. I hateithateithateit.

But back to the point. She cooked dinner. She made this oh-so-yummy baked chicken thing that she says is a Weight Watcher's recipe (tweaked a bit). And here it is for you, in all its glory. Sorry, no beautiful photographs. What can I say, I'm no Ree Drummond. Just take my word for it, it was yummy. And gone in like, no time flat.

Take some boneless, skinless chicken breasts, however many you need for your family. We used 3 regular-sized packages to feed 11 of us, and had plenty for leftovers, which we will eat tonight so I can get out of cooking again.

Filet 'em so they're thinner or buy yourself some of those tenderloins if they're on sale.

You know the bags of powder you mix up with milk and mayo or sour cream to make heavenly "homemade" salad dressing? Yeah, open up a bag or three of those bad boys. Roll the chicken around in the ranch powder, then dredge them through whisked-up eggs (WW just says egg whites but she went whole hog).

Oh, I forgot, before you do all that, take a bag of Sunchips, the French onion flavor, and smash it all up with your fists till they're nothing but crumbs. This also serves as cheap therapy. Get in touch with your inner rage and smash away. Then put the crumbs in a big bowl.

Coat the dredged chicken in the crumbs, and place on a sprayed baking sheet.

Cook on 375 for 20 - 30 mins.

OK, so my recipe narration is not so polished, I know. Leave me alone, I have other strenths, I swear. I happen to be an excellent toilet plunger.

Just trust me, this chicken is to die for. Tangy, succulent, moist, yumminess. Go make some.

It's what's for dinner.









Augh! At this rate I'm gonna be gone from the front page soon, people. If TMB isn't all screwed up for you like it is for me, please help a girl out and vote for me. All it takes is one click of this little brown button. Thank you!

Wordless Wednesday - Pickin' Punkins

The boys opted not to come.

They're poop.



































































































































Pick a punkin, click a vote button. Thanks!

RAD Much?

We were all sitting together watching a TV show a couple weeks ago.

Spoiler alert: if you haven't watched the premier for Terra Nova, but plan to, don't read this.

And in the show, this family is trying to pass themselves off as a family of four (futuristic population control thing). So the Dad has the baby of the family, a little girl about 5 years old, in a backpack to hide her. Well, things go wrong, the police are on to them that something's up (drugs or weapons are suspected), and the backpack is ripped off the Dad's shoulders and is about to be torn open with like a bayonet or something. The parents throw themselves in front of the blade to keep their little girl from being harmed. It's one of those slow-mo moments where they leap between the police and the backpack, screaming "Nooooooooo".













Just then, the backpack is unzipped, and the little girl peeps her head out of the bag, looking all around her at all the chaos.

And James says,

"I don't get it, what's so important about that baby?"





Sigh......






Thanks for clicking to vote.






image courtesy: thefastertimes.com

Mirth Monday

Thanks for clicking; thanks for your vote.





Images courtesy: http://www.theginblog.com

Sunday Social - Daniel

Next one down on my siggy line...

Anne,
Wife of Fred for 23 years
Mom of:
Patrick (16)
James (16)
Rosie (13)
Bella(13)
Julie (13)
Daniel (12)
My children around the world:
Milly in Taiwan
Felice in Hong Kong
Eun Hae in South Korea
Nadya in Germany
Obrin in New York
And our critters Annabelle, Fiona, Sunny, Sophie, Cindy-Lou and Blue; Mamfy, Mali and Punkin; Nick; Frog 1 and Horny Toad; Charlie and Dizzy; Minnie and Alice; Elfie, Frex, Crope, Tibbit and Ozzy; Genevieve, Pippin and Finnegan; and a dozen or so chooks.

I'd like to ask God why He allows
hunger, poverty, and injustice
in the world,but I'd be afraid
He'd ask me the same thing ...



Is Daniel.




















3rd child to come into my family.
6th in birth order.

My only redhead.

My baby.

MY BABY.

Oh I love this kid.

Funny?

Oh my.

He's also creative and, uh, unique. I never know what this child is going to say next.

His Christmas wish list last year? It included a Tempurpedic mattress and a poncho.

He has a penchant for wearing hats of all sorts. And boots.

When he was about nine years old, I lost him for a few minutes in a book store. I said to the clerk,

"I can't find my son. He's about this high, he has red hair and freckles, and he's wearing an elf hat." It was not Christmas time.

He's super smart. Like, scary smart. He has an idea journal in which he has all these intricate sketches for machines of all sorts. He has big plans for how to provide desert areas with clean water, how to create a Mars colonization breather, spaceships, jetpacks, cars that run on water....

His knowledge of geography and history far surpasses mine. He is 12.

I remember taking him to our school for his Kindergarten screening the spring before he started school. He came clomping into the school in his boots and yelled out to everyone he met (and they all knew him by name, though he was not yet a student there) "I'm here for my Kindergarten screaming and I'm gonna do the best I can!"

I have had more than one teacher tell me that when they get home, their spouse asks them to share the latest from Mr. Daniel.

He is an amazing writer and if he could stick with something for more than a heartbeat, he could probably publish a novel. Like now.

He has dabbled in soccer and gymnastics, and took Kung Fu long enough to get his orange sash and then decided he had had enough of that.

He loves video games, reading books like his 40,000 page book on the universe, and drawing (he is, among so many other things, a gifted artist).

When I am not rolling on the floor over the latest Daniel-ism, I am sending him TO HIS ROOM! for, ummm, interpersonal issues with his siblings. He does not always play well with others. Because, if you haven't guessed it yet, he kind of marches to the beat of his own drummer.

While wearing his boots and a hat.





Thanks for your vote.....