Chicken Sandwich with a side of Crisis

When I read today's writing prompt from Absolutely Bananas I was thrilled. I didn't even have to think about what I would be writing about. I knew right away.

There was a time, not too long ago, that we had a roommate of sorts that lived with us. We'll call her J to keep things simple. J loved Chick Fil A like it was nobody's business and one day she stumbled upon a recipe online somewhere that instructed her as to how to go about making an authentic Chick Fil A chicken sandwich. It required the use of a pressure cooker.

I happened to have a pressure cooker that I had received as a wedding gift back in 1999 and we dragged it out to put it to work... for the very first time ever. This wasn't any fancy shmancy pressure cooker, it was a very basic model. When it had been given to me I had been told that I would be able to cook all sorts of magnificent creations with it. It scared me, though, and I promptly hid it in a cabinet all the way in the back.

My fear would turn out to be justified.

So J and I dragged out the pressure cooker (aka contraption of evil) and filled it with oil and specifically seasoned chicken breasts and tightly closed the lid. J placed the pressure cooker on the stove and we thought all was well.

The kids were all pretty small at the time, Goober was an infant so Bug and Munchkin must have been 2 and 4. Their world was safe and secure, their home was a haven that no harm would ever come to in their sweet little minds.

So I was standing in the kitchen and The Man was standing nearby chatting as the kids ran amouck as kids are typical of. J had gone into the other room to use the bathroom or something, I'm not sure. As I leaned against the counter, looking at The Man chatting about five feet away from me, we both heard a loud "POP!"

I turned to look in the general direction of the stove only to be smacked FIRMLY in the forehead with the lid to the pressure cooker. As I started to black out I could only dimly see the flames that began to shoot out into the kitchen and hear the screams of my poor children as they watched the scene play out in horror.

Somehow I managed not to pass out and I made my way over to our family room with the kids and told them I was OK (even though I wasn't sure I was). The Man frantically swatted at the flames with kitchen towels while shouting at me to ask if I was alright and J came back into the room screaming at all the ruckus.

It didn't take him long to put out the flames and in no time I stopped seeing stars. The kids deemed Daddy a hero for saving us all from burning up and we were forced to eat our dinner out on the patio due to the house being filled with smoke.

The pressure cooker went into the trash and the next time anyone wanted Chick Fil A we got into the car and paid $4.29 for it just like everybody else.

I've learned a bunch

Today's writing prompt over at Absolutely Bananas is 10 things I've learned from my children. I've learned more from my kids than any class I ever took in college so it's a little difficult to narrow it down to just 10... but I'll give it a try.

1. It's amazing what you can solve with a calm voice and a quiet room and a cuddle. Or an ice cream cone.

2. Whoopie cushions, legos, matchbox cars, and hair ties go through the washer and dryer beautifully. Crayons do not.

3. I am the worst mommy EVER for 10 minutes out of every day... but I'm the best for the rest of the time.

4. As much as my children drive me crazy, I always miss them when I'm away from them.

5. Some children will wear "armies" long after they've learned to swim.

6. Never leave a child unattended... ever... unless you want a great photo opportunity for your blog.

7. Always look before you sit down. Always.

8. Boredom is the catalyst for creativity.

9. Boys are gross.

10. I have an unending amount of love and forgiveness in my heart. So do my kids.

Heartbreak

Today's writing prompt from Absolutely Bananas is about heartbreak. There's only one time I can truly think of that my heart has been really broken. Sure, there were plenty of times that I felt a little twinge of heartbreak... but there was one time that surpasses all the others. One time that still makes my heart squeeze just a little bit when I think of it.

I was only 17 when I met Bob* and there was something about him that drew me to him. It wasn't that he was overwhelmingly handsome or a smooth talker, because he wasn't either of those things. He simply didn't care what people thought about him and that made me love him. It probably was a good defense mechanism for him, actually, because most people didn't like Bob. I'm not going to go into clinical diagnoses or anything because I'm no doctor, but there was something about that boy that just wasn't right.

Regardless, I fell in love with him fast. My friends hated him, my family hated him - and I didn't care. I spent as much time with him as I possibly could. If it wasn't with him in person, we were on the phone. We were inseparable as any high school romance is. After a year and a half of dating it was time for me to go on to college. Bob must have loved me, too, because he followed me to college. He got his own apartment and I had my dorm, though I can't remember actually sleeping in it. Now I could spend all of my time with him.

In my sophomore year of college I got my own apartment with two other girls and I discovered that there was beer in college. Not just beer, but keg parties... and other boys. Who were interested in me. I wanted to stay faithful to Bob... I loved him so much... but I was 19 and loving the parties and Bob wanted to stay home and take over the world from his personal computer. That, and he really didn't fit in with all my new keg party friends. So we broke up.

I think it hurt him more than it hurt me at the time. He had to sit and watch while I went out and partied constantly and then came home to call him up in a drunken slur and ask him to come over to stay with me just because I didn't want to be alone. He did come over, and he did stay, and he listened to me, and he loved me... even though I was breaking his heart.

After a year or so of being on and off with Bob, me dating other guys and always running back to him, Bob had finally had enough. I could tell he was distancing himself from me and I think that must have been what caused the big bright light bulb to go off in my head. Bob wasn't going to take any of my crap any longer. Bob was moving on.

Bob was moving on? Bob wasn't going to be there for me anymore? But... I loved Bob! Truly, Bob was the only one I really wanted! I would stay with Bob, I would be with Bob, I would devote every ounce of my being to making Bob happy and not being a stupid little twit any longer!

Unfortunately, it was just too late. Bob had met another girl who wouldn't be a stupid little twit. And Bob had fallen in love with her, and moved away with her, and eventually married her.

My heart broke to know that he was gone. I cried like I have never cried before. I walked around for months in a foggy haze of pain. I couldn't listen to the radio because every song brought back the pain. I couldn't see my friends with their boyfriends because it just hurt so bad. It physically hurt to get up in the morning and to try to make it through each day.

I missed him. I loved him. I knew I would never love anyone as much as I loved him and I had ruined it. I had no one to blame but myself... though I tried. I tried to hate his new girlfriend/wife but it wasn't her fault that I had ruined it. I relished everything I heard about her that was negative. I hoped they'd get divorced and Bob would come running back to me, the one who really loved him.

That didn't happen. Bob and his wife had three children and lived what appeared to be** the picture perfect life, according to their website with the sickeningly sweet name. Eventually, I moved on. It took about a year before I could listen to the radio alone without crying, before I stopped thinking of him every day, before I could bury the regret and guilt.

Then I found my true love in The Man. A love that soars high above anything I ever had with Bob... and I'm so thankful that my path changed directions back then. I'm thankful for my heartbreak because it taught me how to love the right way. I'm thankful for my loss because it opened the right doors for me. I learned so much about myself and love and relationships from all of that pain, and I am so glad.

*names have been changed to protect the innocent. :)
**Bob and his wife are divorced now and Bob has been through a whole slew of problems that have made his life more difficult. When I heard they were getting a divorce (the thing I had hoped would happen back then), I genuinely felt only sadness for both of them and their children.
***Stick figures were made at www.ourstickfamily.com, though I did edit them for my own purposes. :)