I’ve had this song stuck in my head for a solid three days
My neighbors love it.
I’ve also been becoming a Domestic Goddess. Ain’t no thaaaaang.
Last night, I made chicken salad.
When I started the chicken was FROZEN.
When I was done, it was delicious.
Also, I TOUCHED RAW CHICKEN.
LOL no I didn’t. I obvs have tongs.
I didn’t eat the chicken salad because I accidentally ate leftover Chipotle chips and salsa while I was cooking soooo I wasn’t really hungry. But it was a delicious lunch today.
After proving my meat cooking skills I decided to make banana bread.
There was batter all over my kitchen because hand mixers are made by Satan, but it tastes real good.
All that, though, is just gearing you up for the grand finale.
Lemme tell you a story.
The day I officially moved into my new apartment, my dad came to see it for the first time. He LOVES patios, and even though mine is only about 3×6, it does have a great view and, hey, it’s still outside. He was pretty excited about it and decided I needed patio furniture, so he called my mom who was at Target and asked her to pick up some patio furniture for a house warming present.
Ain’t he sweet?
Mom picked out two chairs and a table that I was pretty excited about, but then she also brought me a plant.
I can’t make minute rice and the woman buys me a plant. (I’ve since become a better cook; see above)
I was basically ready to throw in the towel right there, but then she spoke.
“I don’t know why I bought this, you’ll just kill it anyway.”
Game on, MOTHER. Game on.
My plan was to treat my plant like an infant but then I accidentally locked myself out of my balcony for a solid week (don’t wanna talk about it) and it diiiiiied.
Dead. Dead as a doornail.
I’d show you a photo, but I never took one because I was afraid in a moment of weakness I’d send it to The One Who Doubts Me.
When I figured out how to get onto my balcony (don’t wanna talk about it), I felt hopeless. The Mother had won. I had lost.
Jeff suggested I cut off all the dead buds (AKA all of them) and start watering it again.
Thus began the watering marathon.
I watered that plant e’rrrrrrr day. That plant was my CHILD.
And damn, it looked good.
Then I went out of town and asked my sister to babysit the plant, but she did not see the point.
I was insulted, but I did not let it affect my plant growing ability. My coworker told me that it’s easier to keep a healthy plant alive than to resurrect a dead plant. I had already done some resurrecting, so obvs I was talented enough to keep the thing alive without water for a few days.
What up, Mom.
Domestic Plant Resurrecting Goddess, at your service.
But not really, cuz lezzzz be real, goddesses don’t serve.