Okay, so it’s October.? You knew it was coming (October, that is) and you knew that eventually, say hypothetically sometime in October, it would get Cold.? “Cold” as in “cute little faux sweater” doesn’t cut it anymore.? “Cold” as in wearing clothes under clothes brings your body temp. back up near usable.? “Cold” as in you bribe small animals to come sit on your lap just so can soak up their body hea– I mean, so you can lovingly pet them, because you’re just nice like that.
It’s not because you’re such a cheap bastard that you wait to turn that thermostat dial until you absolutely cannot take it any more because you know it means going from a $20 bill to a $100 bill, just for the sake of being able to feel your toes.? No, it’s because you’re froooogle.? And creative.
So here’s what ya gotta do.? Ya gotta make some muffins.? Or a casserole.? (A what?? A casserole.? You know.? Throw veggies & noodles in a dish and bake it.? Call it tetrizzini* or something.? No, not the microwave.? That door. on your stove.? No, that’s your broiler.? nevermind.)
Now my theory is that by baking your dinner, you essentially kill two birds with one stone.? You get to eat, and you get to live.? Thawed-style.? No one says you actually have to eat the dinner.? You just have to bake it in the oven.? (No one says you have to close oven door, either.)
Believe it or not, I used to bake all the time.? Mostly before my daughter was born.**? Haven’t had much time or energy since, what with work and kid and work and homework and work and housework and momtaxi and oh yeah, sleep.? (Sometimes.)? But I do still enjoy it.? Even if I have to resort to muffins-in-a-box instead of light, fluffy powdery flour and spices and fruit muffins.***
The only little teeny problem is that I really am a cheap bastard, and instead of buying the box-o’-muffins, I bought the “bag-a-muffin”, for a savings of approx. 82%.? But instead of making oh, say a dozen muffins or some other normal number, it apparently makes…? five.
So instead of having a warm fuzzy comfort food moment in front of my stove, I dirtied a spatula and a bowl so I could have ten minutes worth of heat and five crappy “banana” muffins.
But you, you my friend, are smarter than that.? You know that in order to stay warm, all you have to do is show up at my door right now and not only will I have resigned to turning on my heat full-blast in protest, but you will also get a free complimentary muffin**** to go with your lap kitty and blanket.
with love and warmth and kitties…
* no, I don’t know how to spell it.? But neither do you : P
** anyone else catch the irony that I was the perfect June Cleaver up to the point of when I actually had a kid?? Me either.? Til just now.
*** those were the days… when you measured cinnamon by how many dozen times you patted the bottom of the shaker jar.
**** limit five