OK it wasn’t a fiasco, nobody died or anything, but I think I have proven to everyone in the house (who is awake) that I am not a foodie.
See, we’re sick. All of us who are awake. Russian plague sort of sick. The kind that sneaks up on you and hits you when you aren’t expecting it. The kind that doesn’t give you a fever but makes you wish you had one so you’d have a valid reason for going to the hospital and just dying.
I thought I’d be brill (can you tell I’ve been reading a lot of English books set in the 70’s?) and make a pot of "feel better tea". Ha. We didn’t have most of the ingredients so I substituted. It’s not great. In fact it’s not good. And TW is laughing because I thought a can of crushed pineapple would do pretty much the same thing as a few tiny cans of pineapple juice. She’s laughing more because I didn’t add any cloves (do we even have cloves) or any sugar.
Well she can keep laughing, laughter is good medicine and I’m sure it will help her feel well enough to spend her day driving kids around town and playing with all of the games Santa appears to have delivered today. Not to mention those puzzles that still aren’t quite finished. And there’s the laundromat to visit.
Oh if she keeps on laughing this way, I’ll be able to stay in bed with my really bitter non-feel better tea while she plays superwoman and knocks out 6 dozen cookies and makes those two quiches tonight for dinner.