From the library of Heather B. Armstrong who will get to the book your publisher sent me, just give me a few years.
“I know that I belong to a small, eclectic community of men and women where status is calibrated precisely as a function of one’s ability to endure.”
I apologize that this is the second time today that I am going to get a Disney song stuck in your head.
I used the oven this time, you guys, and had a wooden spoon in one hand and a fire extinguisher in the other.
You could never give up pasta? This recipe might just change your mind.
When I grow up, I want to be a mother and have a family, one little, two little three little children who would never in a million years touch anything I cook.
I cooked lunch and Tyrant ate every bite on his plate without pretending to gag once. What a missed opportunity.
Yes, I’m still cooking. And yes, I finally messed up.
The delicious staple of my diet that does not ever get boring or lose its ability to fill me up.
Alas, even though this one was more tan in color, Marlo wouldn’t touch it. More for me!