Poisoning Children

My nanny duties aren't exactly detailed. Spoken duties include vague, "if you can" statements referring to laundry, math, and meals. Unspoken duties include keeping two children alive.

So I wake up and decide what I want to do. Then I remember I have children, and I modify my wishes. The modified wishes usually involve the outdoors. With children who would rather read and play video games for all of eternity, this is sometimes difficult. But when I can, I drag the children outside and pretend that nothing we ever do will benefit me in any way. I think they like things that way.

I like to go to this nature preserve nearby.

Mostly, the kids do not.

As we hike along, the smaller one obtains the coveted "front" position and then lets me in on one of his many dislikes.

"I hate gween."

He must be in hell.


But, as it turns out, the kid had a good reason for hating green.

Sometimes green comes in the form of a plant with mitten-shaped leaves. Sometimes that plant decides to eat children's faces.


So the kitchen counter looked like this for the next few days:

And we stayed indoors. Them watching super hero movies, me doing household chores. Awesome.

And I felt for the kid. I did. Poison ivy once devoured my own visage way back when.

But seriously. The boy is not helpless:

Destroy the green!

Bikes to Babies

A few weeks ago I got on a train. Because, honestly. I was so done with Chicago.

You hear that Chicago? DONE. No more of your WIND. No more of your LIGHTS. No more of your CROWDS.

Except for where would I go? My family's in Ohio so... I think I'll go to Missouri.

Wait--What?

I took a train to St. Louis to meet a biking partner and relative stranger. But biking partners are winners always. No need for background knowledge. That's my theory, and I'm sticking to it.

Seriously. Harmless:

So my harmless stranger and I set off with a notion to head in the direction of Bardstown, Kentucky. Which is sort of silly. Because I had nothing in Bardstown, Kentucky. I had never even heard of Bardstown, Kentucky. But The Stranger had a friend there. And, being merely the annoying tag-along, I had no preference for direction. So ride we did.

And despite the parts where I was convinced I was deranged for deciding to do this little tour, biking was fun. Really fun. And pretty.

And fast!

20? Pleeease. I could beat that with my eyes closed.

...Okay not really. Well I mean, I could. But it would be on a nice downhill. And I wouldn't have my eyes closed.

Maybe he would.

He seems to like having his eyes closed. But not me.

Except for here's the thing about this 'him' guy. You see this seemingly relaxed pose?

Oh um. He's actually in extreme pain. And laying like this because he can't really stand. Let alone ride a bicycle for another 150 miles. Because he is an old man with old man back problems. That flare up at the most inopportune times. Well. I suppose there isn't really an opportune time for one's back to go out...

Anyway. The stranger-inclusive leg of the trip was cut a bit short.

Which is unfortunate. Because now? Well now I'm not exactly on a bicycle touring adventure.

Now I'm a nanny in rural Ohio. Which means I'm a housewife with no husband. Also no catty housewife peers.

And those days when I was thinking I was delusional for hopping on a bicycle to nowhere? My mind is frantically archiving every demented moment. Because I'll need to quickly and efficiently access those moments as I'm making yet another bland, kid-friendly meal or wiping my billionth drop of milk from the table. And it is really too bad that I don't have more archives.

Summer? Start over? Please?

So no. I'm no longer treking randomly across the middle of the United States with a few smelly articles of clothing. In fact. Instead of never having the opportunity to do laundry, I am forced to do multiple loads a day for two dirty little boys.

But you know? At least having lots of clothes to clean means occasionally I get to stumble upon something like this:

Which gets its own little mind archive, you know?

IRON MAN!

Similarity

So there's this store in Bridgeport. It's called The Egg Store. I don't really know why. I mean. They do sell eggs. But it's a tiny store. And eggs are a tiny part of the tiny store. It's mainly produce which gives it its lovely ripe odor.

In any case it's very close to The Cops' house. So I go all the time. Often for eggs. A few weeks ago when I went? I saw some poppy seeds. And I'm sure lots of places sell poppy seeds. But if they do they're in obscure sections of big chain groceries in which I often find myself.

Now I don't know a lot of use for poppy seeds really. No matter what I tell myself, I'm not actually a culinary master. BUT. I'm all the time buying those little just-add-water packages of lemon poppy seed muffins. Because lemon poppy seed muffins are exceedingly tasty. But seriously. Who has poppy seeds? I've certainly never had poppy seeds layin around.

I decided to join the ranks of those weird people who have poppy seeds layin around. For the sole purpose of making my own lemon poppy seed muffins.

But then I stuck them in a drawer and proceeded to make all kinds of other baked goods for the next two weeks.

Until Wednesday. Wednesday I had a weird handful of time before class that was just perfect for the use of those lovely seeds. So I opened the drawer and pulled out some seeds.

And made the batter in mere minutes. Because I am such a professional.

Then I loaded up my tiny cupcake pan, popped them in the oven, and began to clean up. Which involves licking batter, obviously. Mmm love those crunchy seeds.

Man. Poppy seeds not from a just-add-water package have a weird aftertaste. Hm. It is actually a very unpleasant aftertaste.

Wait...

So you know how I said I'd never owned a package of poppy seeds before? Yeah I guess I wasn't used to just how tiny those things actually are.

Also not used to cooking with seeds in general. Because apparently there exists more than one variety of small, black seeds. Go figure.

So there I was with tiny lemon mustard seed muffins in the oven and a bowl full of batter left to bake.

Luckily tiny muffins don't take long, so I was able to taste them before class. And they weren't bad, really. They just weren't good really either.

So I had to break out the big guns.

And turn them into tiny lemon mustard cupcakes with cream cheese icing.

Because I may not be a culinary master, but my cream cheese icing rocks. I say my cream cheese icing as if the recipe stays the same every time. Which is not true at all. I have no idea what all is in this stuff. But it sure is good.

Whatever is in that icing definitely saved those tiny muffin/cupcakes.

Made em much prettier too.

Aaand I figured since I had the colors, I may as well try and make actual sheep cupcakes instead of bears on clouds trying their hardest to be sheep like last time.

Little better right? I thought so.

Someday I'll make actual lemon poppy seed muffins from scratch. Until then, I'm studying up on the differences:

Mustard Seeds-BIG
Poppy Seeds- tiny

Ooor I guess I could just turn it over and read the label...

But seriously, who does that?