Coronavirus has given us less drama most days.
Less to write about.
Less drama.
Less fun.
Just less.
The other night we had an explosion of issues.
I put the chickens my mom got from Trader Joes in the oven and went back to work.
An hour later I smell the chicken, it doesn't smell good.
At the same moment I realize that the chicken may have gone bad, my grandmother needs her ears cleaned out.
I go in the bathroom to help her and end up messing up her ear so it started bleeding. Well crap!!!!
Back in the kitchen the smell is getting worse and worse as my husband is cutting it up. We have to throw away the chicken it is rancid. My husband starts to dump the chicken juices in the kitchen sink. Safe place you would think if you could put that type of thing. Nope, that is where I had just left the pasta to strain for the rest of dinner.
Now I have a grandmother with a bloody ear, ruined dinner, a house that smells like a toilet, and 3 kids running around spraying Lysol and Febreze.
Dinner ended up being leftovers for those of us who are grain and gluten free and pasta with white sauce for my grandmother with microwaved chicken tenders on top. (She loved every bite, since she seems to hate everything I give her I will take the win.)
A week later her ear is still having issues and the doctors won't even see her because of COVID. Plus, I served her almost the same thing last night and like clockwork, she hated it.
I know how parents of toddlers feel from personal experience with my toddlers now I am experiencing it through eyes of someone who can talk back. I am pretty sure everything she says is what the toddlers would like to say.
Some days I can do no right.
