I will confess to the public blog world that I am not the world's greatest cook. I am okay with that, but I would like to at least know how to make a weeks worth of dinners. Honestly, I don't. Jason teased me when we dated that I only knew how to make chicken, rice and vegetables. I convinced him that I just happened to be making the same thing every time he ended up at my house around dinner time, and the few times that I cooked for him. I assured him that there was lots more that I could cook, and my meals were amazing. I flat out lied. And now that we are married he has surely realized that. So yesterday I decided that starting today that was going to change. I made a two-week menu and grocery list last night, got all of my necessities today, and ventured out into this uncharted territory. Tonight I made meatloaf, mashed potatoes and salad; a meal that I have never attempted before, though it seemed easy and something that most people know how to make. I got super into it, chopping, dicing, singing, stressing, saute-ing, and like ten minutes into it my kitchen looked like three four-year olds were left unattended to play chef. I have not yet mastered keeping a kitchen clean as you cook.
Time started speeding up and I was uncomfortable in my new element. Jason was coming home soon and I really wanted to have made a great dinner before he got there. I was mixing everything together, but instead of finishing one portion and moving on to another, I found myself jumping all over the place. Before I knew it I was a complete wreck! I somehow splashed meat juice in my face, getting in my mouth and eyes, and making me want to throw up because of the thought of it. Then as I got a knife out I nicked my palm, causing blood to start gushing. I didn't have time to aid it, so I just stuck a paper towel in it and added a potato on top for pressure, then started peeling the potato. Jason was almost home, and although he could care less if dinner was ready or not, I really wanted to surprise him. In my panic to get the potatoes peeled, I completely slipped and peeled my finger, causing more blood than I could handle. I needed to pause to get enough pressure on it to try and stop it from bleeding... but I didn't have the time! So I stuck my throbbing finger into a paper towel and in between my legs as I stabilized the grater against the counter with my chin and started to grate some carrots. Of course I grated my finger on my right hand this time, and the blood started flowing, although not as heavily as my first two wounds. By the time Jason walked in the house I was standing there in the middle of a royal wreck with the water for the potatoes boing over and hissing as it hit the burner, the water still running in the sink, seasonings, meat juice, measuring cups, bread crumbs, and sauces spilled all over the counters, floor and myself, make-up running down my cheeks from my onion-provoked tears, my hair in a ponytail that was falling out and in my face, and blood EVERYWHERE! I am sure he looked at me and thought I was just the greatest wife he could have asked for. So talented. =)
My poor meal was suffering. I managed to get the meat together into a nice little loaf. There is ketchup in there, but I am not going to say that blood wasn't mixed in. Eew, sorry for that. What am I saying? I'm so gross

My mashed potatoes came out gummy..... uhh.... can anyone tell me what that is? Do they just know that am nervous and are playing tricks on me? Geez! Oh, and I think that my meatloaf was fed up with how it was treated. I put it in looking normal, and it came out looking like it was going to get revenge and kill me!

No, really though, my meatloaf actually tasted good and I was proud of my first attempt. I just can't believe that I intend on putting myself through this every night for the rest of this week. Would anyone care to hear how it goes? Eh, probably not. The experience wore me out and I am sure that reading about it does the same. Goodnight!