Friday, November 03, 2006

Project Taco

Dinner. What am I going to make for dinner? This question weighs on me daily like the deep, knotted layer of dog fur smoothering my car trunk.

The other night, I thought that I had a solution to this dilemma - the dinner dilemma, not the dog fur dilemma. The only solution to the dog fur problem is a complete shave down of Lola or to never transport my mutts for a run in the woods with me again. Unacceptable. First, Lola does not bow down to the convention that females should remove any hair from their bodies. She's my liberal, feminist, granola dog. Second, running in the woods with my dogs is a joy in my life that is second only to ordering take-out and not dealing with the dinner issue at all.

So, my solution. We had leftover beans. A perfect accompaniment to those leftovers, I thought, would be tacos. Of course, I was lacking every ingredient found in a taco. I realized all of this just as the clock was nearing that magical minute when Sarah must be fed or her face will melt and spray furious flames directly into your eye sockets, but living on the edge is my thing. So, I threw caution to the wind and took Sarah to the store to get our taco supplies.

At the store, I grabbed her little hand and raced through the aisles picking up all that we needed: ground meat, corn tortillas, tomatoes, lettuce, cheese and as a bonus, eggs for breakfast. I couldn't believe how smoothly our trip was progressing. We even managed to get a pink balloon on our way out of the store. Still, I was rushing. The clock was ticking. As we zoomed out to the car, I had a little fist and pink balloon in one hand. In the other, a sack of groceries and this ridiculous purse I've taken to carrying as a I sign that I'm a good mom. Good moms carry purses.

We make it through the parking lot in the dark. I take the kid still clutching the balloon and snap her in her car seat in one swift motion. My body is working on auto-pilot. My mind is working out all of the steps that I'll need to take to cook up the meat, heat up the beans and assemble the tacos in less than four minutes. That's how much time I have left before the face starts melting. Rush. Rush. Rush. It's looking good. I think this can be done.

I get in the driver's seat and pop the car into reverse eager to get home and implement Project Speedy Taco - Arriba! Arriba! Just as the car moves back out of our space, it hesitates just a bit. Odd, but I force it to keep moving. We have to get home! Then, I hear it - a crushing sound. The sound of my smooth dinner dreams being squished by a Volkswagen Jetta. Oh no, it can't be. I must have run over a can or a bottle. Damn litterers. I'm in denial as I get out and see what's made such a terrible noise.

There under my back wheel is my once perfect bag of groceries. I ran over my groceries. Completely. The ground meat looks as if it's gone through a Play-Doh Fun Factory. The eggs, well... I can still recognize the carton. It's too dark to assess the rest of the damage, but it's not too dark for others to see my stupidity. So, I lift up the soggy paper sack, place it on the floor of my car and get the heck out of there.

Aggghhh... This stuff is only supposed to happen to other moms - bad, non-purse carrying, crack smoking moms. I curse my mom purse for not shielding me from this mess. Maybe, I need to fill it with gum. I've heard good moms carry gum and tissue. I must get some tissue, too.

Back at home, I manage to salvage the tortillas, cheese, a few leaves of lettuce and one tomato. I give Sarah some Cheerios in a cup which she eats while sitting on the kitchen floor, but dinner is not a complete failure. I discover a package of ground meat in the freezer and proceed with Project Squished Groceries Be Damned We're Having Tacos.

Looking back, I have to say that it wasn't so bad after all. The tacos were delicious and now the dog fur in my car is being conditioned by a layer of raw eggs.

These are the days you'll remember...


At 3:40 PM, Blogger NCD said...

Still all sounds lovely. Yummy yummy tacos.

At 6:57 AM, Blogger jen said...

oh are super mommy...because the journey is the reward. i feel bad for laughing out loud, but picturing your face when you realized what happened and then i am assuming, driving home trying to talk about it out loud to your babe w/o expletives is well, pretty damn funny.

At 3:17 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I am sorry I laughed out loud too but only because that is something that would SO happen to me!

Tacos are a staple around here as well. I always buy multiple packages of taco shells, seasoning, and olives. Since I live in Wisconsin, it is mandatory that I have at least three different types of shredded cheese on hand at any one time. YUM!!!

At 8:50 AM, Blogger J Fife said...

ncd - In retrospect, it's a lovely memory which I hope to never repeat.

jen - You got it right. The drive home featured a conversation where I tried to keep my language clean and calm. Oh, but if I'd been alone...

qt - No apologies. It was hysterical. Foolish, but hysterical. Yum, cheese! Do you have cheese curds? I love those things. They squeak when you bite them!

At 7:43 PM, Blogger Kris said...

I need to get some gum and some tissue into my purse, too. :) Glad you still got to have tacos.


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