The Top 10 “Overheard In My House” 2009. In Other Words, Can You Not Hear Yourself Speaking?

I love this time of year – not just because of all the holiday gatherings and new movie releases and celebratory drinks (Bacon Bloody Mary, anyone?), but also because we’re finally, finally, finally reaching the conclusion of those irritating Snuggie commercials, featuring -- inexplicably -- full-grown adults oblivious to the fact that they are wearing unusually-flammable bed coverings in lieu of clothing to sporting events.

Thank the advertising geniuses that be, those mawkish Lexus “December Holiday Event” ads are also winding down.  Which means I no longer have to ask, every time one airs (which feels like every six and half minutes), “Cheese and rice.  Did she really have no idea she was getting a car?  And where did he get that big-ass bow?  At the big-ass Wal-Mart?”  (Sorry, Mom.  I know how you feel about that kind of talk.)

Actually, what I love most about this week between Christmas and New Year’s Day is the cornucopia of lists proclaimed and broadcasted in every media outlet:  The 50 Best Movies of 2009, Most Popular Baby Names for 2009 (Jayden?   Really?), YouTube Top 2009 Videos (including the JK Wedding Video I adored) Noteworthy People Who Died In 2009, and the Top Ten Cryptozoology Stories of 2009.  (Honest folks, you can’t just make this stuff up.  Or, considering the cryptozoology example, maybe you can.)

I guess I’m so enamored of these 365-days-summarized-in-bullet-points, because I’m an unrepentant listmaker myself.  My own year-end wrap-up comes straight from posts I’ve made this year on Facebook.  So here now, the Top 10 “Overheard In My House*” quotes from 2009.

*Note:  These are actual quotes, but to protect both the innocent and the guilty, I’m not naming names.  Although yes, you could probably guess.

Overheard In My House -- 2009

1. My child, “I didn’t know what you meant.”  Me, “When I said, ‘Get the wet towels off the floor,’ you didn’t know what I meant?”
2. From a child trying out for a sports team: "I don't want to practice. Practicing doesn't make any difference at all. Everyone knows that."  Me: [Silent.  But only because rolling eyes don’t make any noise, and with enough practice -- which I have -- neither do grinding teeth.]
3. From a teenager, “You know, I might want to go to the University of South Carolina.  It looks like you don’t have to know what you want to do there, but you still get to have a lot of fun."
4. Me, "No. That would be three sleepovers in a row. Come Sunday, you would be so awful that I would do something awful and that means I'd get arrested." My child, " Just let me do it, Mom. I can break you out of jail." 
5. Four weeks before Christmas, spoken by a child who should know better, "I know it's $500, Mom, but it's better for you, because then you’d only have to get me one gift."
6. From a child, hoping to go to a friend’s house, "I DO SO understand. I've got to do my homework, take a shower, pick up my room and eat dinner first. So do you think I can go over there in about five minutes?"
7. Me, “You’re hungry?  How about a bowl of cereal, or some scrambled eggs, or a quesadilla, or a peanut butter sandwich, or some nachos, or a bowl of soup, or some buttered pasta?”  My child, sighing, “No.  There’s nothing to eat in this house.”
8. Son, "Mom, where's the rug?" Me, "You mean the 6 x 8 rug that was at the top of the stairs, which I rolled up and removed FIVE days ago for cleaning?" Son, "Yeah. That one. Where is it?"
9. My child, “I don't have any homework today. Unless you count those vocab words. And reading. And that presentation that's due tomorrow. And there's a math test, too. But, you know, you can't really study for math. So, nothing, really.”
10. And the prizewinning quote (drumroll, please), overheard in my house, 2009, spoken by a teenager, “When you write down what I say, I sound stupid.”

Ahem.  Nuff said.  I may, however, need a little something sweet for my kiddoes after posting this blog.  Fortunately, everyone here loves fresh fruit.  This unusual and simple salad should do the trick.

Minted Grapefruit, Cherry and Strawberry Salad

Two red grapefruits, peeled and sectioned

2 cups fresh cherries, pitted

2 cups strawberries, halved or quartered

Dressing

3 tablespoons orange juice (or Triple Sec)

3 tablespoons honey

3 sprigs mint

Combine dressing ingredients in a small bowl and let macerate for at least 30 minutes.  In a large bowl, gently combine fruit.  Pour dressing over, straining out the mint.  Serve chilled.

Post-Christmas Chez Wiles: Paper, Pets, Poop, Poundage and the Perfect Dessert.

Christmas is done.  The gifts unwrapped, the stockings unhung, the trashcans overflowing, and the frenzy, somewhat abated.  Looking back, there are a few things I’d like to do differently next year.  Let’s review. 

First, I'm thinking Christmas should be a giftwrap-free holiday.  It’s unseemly that I’ve got to dump trash twice for every single gift – first, when I bring it home and toss tags, original packaging, and finally, the shopping bag (and those flimsy plastic ones seem procreate if left to their own devices), and again on Christmas, discarding the wrapping paper, ribbons, gift tags, bows, and -- much as I hate to admit it -- gift boxes.  (I know.  Why is it that I feel just fine re-gifting, but, despite the Ed Begley Jr. example set by my mom, who resurrected the same Belk department store gift boxes, as well as one from a Ohio department store that started with a “K”, for decades, I just can’t bring myself to re-giftbox.)  Next year, though, ribbons only.  Or perhaps, I’ll just put the gifts under the tree, while still in those procreating shopping bags.

I’m also lobbying for pet-free holidays next December.  Honest.  I can’t imagine a better time of year to ship Josie and Lionel off to doggy daycare and kitty camp.  Not, of course, that pets are more difficult to wrangle than kids.  But what are the options with kids?  Or, what are the options that don’t result in a call to DSS?

Hopped up on this year’s holiday insanity, Lionel-the-pugilistic-cat became a ‘round-the-clock predator, stalking, pouncing, and attacking everyone Chez Wiles, including (naturally), Josie-the-anxiety-dog.

At this point, you’ve got to ask:  How hard is it for an indoor cat to track down a mostly-indoor dog?  During these agitated holidays, Josie made it particularly easy, dividing her time fairly evenly between the upstairs cat litter box (her favorite dining spot) and the downstairs dining room, where she revealed her true talent -- devaluing the most valuable rug in the house.  Yes, I’ll be calling the cleaners after New Year’s.

I’m also thinking there’s a huge need for a rice-caked based Christmas treat.  I don’t think I’ve seen a chocolate-dipped, butter-laden cake, cookie or candy these past few weeks that I haven’t used as hip-padding.  Not before, of course, topping it with whipped cream.  And washing it down with champagne, or in a pinch, red wine.

So to recap, my plans for Christmas 2010 involve no paper, no pets, and no poundage.  But since Christmas 2009 isn’t quite over, today I made these lovely little Chocolate Pots de Crème.  They’re like the most intense little chocolate puddings you can imagine – kind of like chilled and creamy chocolate truffles.

Hmm. Slight revision.  Next year, no paper, no pets and no desserts that aren’t Chocolate Pots de Crème.  There.  I feel better already.

Chocolate Pots de Crème

2 eggs

½ teaspoon salt

2 cups whipping cream

3 tablespoons sugar

8 ounces good, semi-sweet chocolate chips (I use Ghiaradelli)

2 tablespoons Frangelico

whipped cream (for garnish)

In blender, quickly blend eggs and salt for a few seconds.

Now, in a medium saucepan, scald whipping cream and sugar over medium high heat, stirring constantly.  Do not boil.  When bubbles form at side of pan, whisk in chocolate chips.  Remove from heat.  When chips are melted, drizzle a ladle of the hot mixture into the eggs, blending over a low speed.  (This tempers the eggs, effectively cooking them, but keeping them from curdling.)  Blend in another ladle or two of chocolate cream.  Then, blend in remaining chocolate cream and Frangelico.  When well blended, pour into eight small, individual ramekins.  Cover and chill at least eight hours.  Serve chilled, with whipped cream.

Christmas Love and Warmth From The Wiles. Kind Of.

Dear Friends and Family,

Depending on how you look at it, mea culpa (“my bad”) or pulvis vos felicis  (“aren’t you lucky?”).  I haven’t sent a holiday letter since 2006 – mostly because I was caught up in the complications and cussings of divorce.  Truthfully, ours was as amicable as a divorce could be.  No courtrooms.  No surprise witnesses.  No machetes.  It was final last April, and as one of the kids put it, “Divorce sucks, but we’re better than we ever thought we could be a year ago.”  Truly, we’re all fine – every one.  However, there have been plenty of goings-on Chez Wiles, so I’ll try to catch you up.

The kids are great.  Snarky Son's now in high school, which he has embraced like some kind of prickly brick wall.  Turns out, ninth grade’s a lot tougher than eighth.  Shocking.  Over Christmas break, he’s taking drivers’ ed.  I’m not worried a bit and you shouldn’t be, either.  Well, not until March, I guess.  That’s when he actually turns 15.  Now that SS is a teenager, I’m also pleased to report that he and Darling Daughter (DD) have grown a lot closer.  At one point this fall, he told her, “You’re not unattractive, you know.”  Sigh.  Just about brings tears to your eyes, right?

DD's in seventh grade and is playing basketball.  Despite being one of the (very) tallest girls on the team, she’s spending a lot of time at point guard.  Either her previous coaches have overlooked an undeniable talent, or this current team is a wee bit short on ballhandlers.  Hard to tell.  She went to summer camp this past year for four weeks.  Surprising how quickly her letters turned from, “I want to come home” to “can I stay another four weeks?”  Again, just about brings tears to your eyes, right?

DD had to come home, though, because there’s some sort of “no felines” rule at her camp, and although she might get over me, there was no getting over her 12-pound-cat, Lionel, who likely believes his name to be, “you’re an indoor cat, you’re an indoor cat, you’re an indoor cat,” which is what I say to him, over and over.  Every.  Single.  Day.

We have a new addition to our household.  (C’mon, now.  Don't even go there.  Remember that I’m 47 and single.)  In February, Josie-the-rescue-dog came to live with us.  She’d had parvo and been starved nearly to death, so mostly what she wants from us is to be fed and loved.  Here’s what we want from her:  To leave the #%$@* cat alone.  Every.  Single.  Day.

I’m still a stay-at-home-mom (I told you the divorce was amicable), so my life as cook-driver-sock-finder-poop-picker-upper continues.  I have, however, been keeping a blog, Feminine Wiles, which I hope you’ll read sometime after the holiday rush slows down.  I try to include a recipe in every post, as well as a funny story.  Or, at least, a story that is funny to me.  To find it, just Google “Cheri Wiles blog” or “Cheri Feminine Wiles.”  Or, try, “master stir fry in peru keep cats in basement.”  No kidding.  Someone once landed on my blog by Googling these very words.  I can't even imagine.

The response to Feminine Wiles has been mixed here at home.  DD says the word “blog” (which actually is short for “web log”) sounds disgusting – like some sort of bodily function.  Nice.  SS's friends actually read it, but what he wants to know is, “Does this mean you’re finally getting paid to write?”  Uh.  No.  But thanks for asking.

Which is all to say that 2009 has treated us just fine, and we all hope it’s treated you just as well -- or in some instances (poop-scooping comes to mind) even better.

Much love and happy holidays,


Cheri


P.S.  If you need a great coffeecake for Christmas morning, I've got an idea that's a snap. Note that you've got to assemble it the night before and pop it in the oven the next morning.  As unlikely as it sounds, it always turns out perfect.

Butterscotch Monkey Bread
1 bag frozen parkerhouse style rolls
1 (small) box butterscotch pudding (not instant)
1 cup pecans, chopped
3/4 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup butter


The night before, spray bundt pan with nonstick coating.  Place frozen rolls in pan.  Pour dry pudding mix over rolls and sprinkle with pecans.  Combine brown sugar and butter in a small saucepan and bring to a boil.  Drizzle hot mixture over frozen rolls and cover pan loosely with plastic wrap.  Leave pan out on counter overnight.


The next morning, preheat oven to 350.  Rolls will have risen, doubling or tripling in size.  Bake, uncovered, for 30 minutes.  Let cool slightly and pass the napkins!