Nathalie's Notes

Raising the Hardy Boys

"Why does everybody have to be so damn crafty?" A friend recently lamented as we discussed our holiday mom envy. My only consolation to her was that I am so, so not crafty. In fact the only holiday thing I've made this year was kind of a disaster.

I got sucked into the ChexMex Lady commercial. You know the one where EveryMom is floating around her party (full of well-behaved, clean children) offering people handfuls of her "easy and delicious" party treat? The one where your first thought is gross, flu season, why would you serve something so germy? And then you think, but it does look kind of good.

So I made some. Well, I tried to make some. Look, I can finally look you in the eye and say, "Yeah, I can cook." But if you wanted to get into it, I would have to tell you that I can cook some things, some of the time. And maybe it's not that I can't cook but rather that I can't seem to read directions properly. Like, ever.

How do you mess up a 15 minute Chex Mex recipe, you might wonder. I'll tell you. First, I completely forgot the butter. I even had it set out on the counter with all the other ingredients and just, I don't know, missed it somehow.

As I was chatting with a friend about my ChexMex problem, and really, it's not such a bad problem, I mean it's still chocolate, peanut butter, sugar, vanilla and cereal, how bad can it be? It just looks more like dog poo than anything I'd proudly serve to friends.

Anyway, as we were talking about it I had a little vision of Sam's future. So there he is sitting in the cafeteria. He opens his lunch box and pulls out a sliced orange, even though he's probably already asked me to stop cutting his fruit for him because it looks lame, and then there's his string cheese, and then a little note from me (again, you know, against his wishes, but I'll be convinced that he secretly likes it). Maybe there's even a little homemade treat because I'll be that kind of mom by then. Finally he'll shake the bag but his suspicions will be confirmed. No sandwich.

Again? His friends will ask. He'll just shake his head, "I don't know. She must've gotten a phone call."

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