they say that having children is the kiss of death to parents’ brain cells.

i now stand in the kitchen and think, “where do we keep the plates? why am i forgetting this? is it part of the aging process or because i am distracted by the naked bird who is drawing all over himself while standing on the kitchen counter? i guess i’ll never know.”

the very same adults who excel in the board room, the court room, and the classroom, people who have been forming reasonable sentances all of their lives, say the most ridiculous things to their children.

my friend who has a phD drew my attention to this phenomenon. it seems that no amount of schooling can prevent one from uttering words such as:

watch out for the broccoli on the stairs.

i have two (TWO!) friends who confess to having said to their kids with great authority:

do not lick the car.

in just a week of paying attention to my own absurd directives, i have been appalled as the following words have left my lips:

hold your sandwich so i can wipe your bottom.

if you are going to play with the fire, please use a different stick.

you may not hit your brother in the swimming pool.

and finally, in reference to the above mentioned kitchen counter escapades of the bird:

do not color your penis.

the good news is that all of this stuff made perfect sense in context. the bad news is that parenting presents the most preposterous series of contexts!

in the coming weeks, i’m going to be reporting on the wacko words that escape my mouth, and i hope you’ll do the same. send me your own personal versions of authoritative nonsense.

what we are losing in brain cells, we might just make up for in hysterical fits of laughter.

i don’t know whether to be delighted or embarrassed about how well we have eaten during pantry week. let’s face it. my name is mary allison, and i am a food hoarder.

last night’s entree was this double-cheese meatloaf  from cooking light. my lamb, ground beef, and sausage combination worked really well, as did my substitution of front-yard-basil for the called-for parsley. i didn’t get a chance to photograph the meal until it was almost gone, but as you can see, it disappeared fast.

along with the meatloaf, we had some farmers’ market lady peas (purchased saturday before we hatched the pantry week plan) and some broccoli that was nearing its date of expiration.

apparently, i am not the only person who is seeking better organization through eating. many of you have responded to our little pantry week experiment with your own versions of this challenge, and some of you have even sent me your favorite makeshift recipes. here is one that’s in keeping with the meatloaf theme:

elise’s makeshift meatloaf:

add crumbled crackers or oatmeal to hold leftover meat together. add one egg, some worcestershire sauce or ketchup, salt and pepper. put it in a loaf pan or dutch oven and cook at 350 for 45 minutes or until done.

tonight’s menu will feature a return of the lady peas in an unconventional fashion. any guesses where they will turn up?