Waffles, True Confessions, and Suspicious Substances
I'm honestly not even sure where to
begin. I suppose I will say up front that this is some what of a
confession. This is real life. REAL life.
It started out innocently. Noah and I
were going to make homemade berry waffles. It was all 'pinteresty and
best mom ever-ish'; not to mention, we were incorporating measurement
and fractions—which of course makes me the best homeschool mom EVER.
Keep in mind, we don't make waffles
often. Noah pulled the waffle maker from the cabinet and when I open
up the lid there was a 'suspicious poo-like substance' in the corner
of the waffle maker. So, I plug it in and soap it down figuring that
the heat plus soap will clean it sufficiently. Which it does [that is what I am telling myself]. I pour
the berry waffle batter generously onto the hot waffle iron
completely forgetting to grease the surface. Oh, well...too
late...we'll hope for the best.
Oh, but wait...this is me we're talking
about. I make ruining food an art form.
By now, it is like 200 degrees in my
kitchen. The kitchen timer is screaming at me. There is someone at
the front door to whom I need to speak with on behalf of my husband who
is at work AND the first batch of waffles look like this:
 |
| Halfway through the scraping. *YES*, I paused to take a picture because I knew I'd need to find the humor in this. |
I return from addressing the visitor at
the front door and start scraping the waffle mess off the hot waffle iron
since I still had a whole bowl of batter left to cook. I am literally flinging waffle bits everywhere. I somehow ended up with a piping hot berry between my toes on my flip-flops which I fling off in the kitchen. I am now
sweating profusely and my temper is sparked. (This is the confession
part.) I get angry and yell at all three of my kids separately but in
a span of 5 minutes. I am determined to cook these waffles. I will
not be defeated by waffle batter and sweat! After I have adequately
removed the chunks of waffle mess from the waffle iron, I take a
stick of butter and rub it all over the waffle iron. Then, I fill the
next four slice slots with the batter. While these are cooking, I
take the opportunity to apologize to each of my children. I remind
them that I, too, have a sinful heart and need Jesus' forgiveness. One of
them points out how I tend to 'lose it' when Jeff isn't home. Yes, I
admitted...my husband helps 'keep me in check.' I gave them permission to respectfully point out my need to pray for self-control over my
anger in those moments.
With peace restored, I return to the
kitchen and remove four beautiful waffles.
HOORAY! I pour the last
four onto the iron thinking that all this work for eight edible
waffles was not worth it. [I know 'clean' eating is in...but I'll
take preservative-filled Eggo waffles anytime!] While this last
batch of waffles are cooking, for whatever reason, I decide to look
inside the cabinet where the waffle iron was stored to see if I can
discover what may have made the 'suspicious substance' in this
wretched kitchen gadget.
I was utterly disgusted and [vomitted in my
mouth a little] when I saw this:
Perhaps by now, I should be accustomed
to insects; however, cockroaches are just different. I reminded
myself that I had cleaned the waffle iron well before cooking AND we
have stomach acid for a reason.
There. That is it. That is my real life
story from today. Sinful people need Jesus**. Moms need to apologize
too. Cockroaches don't belong anywhere. Eggo-Brand Waffles may not be
'clean' but they are delicious and easy.
By the way, Noah thoroughly enjoyed eating the first botched batch of waffles. I froze the intact waffles and will insist he savors each and every bite of those eight waffles.
**My kids just memorized the verse Romans 3:23 which says "ALL have sinned and fall short of God's Glorious Standard. So glad I could provide a real life object lesson!**
