I am wife to a magnificent man and mother to five wonderful children. Three of my children were born in the Northwest and two were born thousands of miles away in Liberia, West Africa. Birthplace is no matter, all of my children were born in my heart. This is our journey.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Where I don't teach them how to cut up a chicken.

It's not that I don't want to teach them. It's more of a I'm not good at it in a massacreing the chicken kind of way. My dad showed me how to do it before I got married. I am glad he did and if the need arises I can do it, it's just that the result is less than appetizing.

I'm not exactly sure what my problem is. There is an element of impatience involved but it seems there must be more to it.

Yesterday we decided that this particular avenue of training would be handled by Dad.

It was so tough to let go and let him do it but I managed somehow. While they were smiling and cutting I was found feet up on the couch, laptop in lap, taking a load off. Not a bad trade, eh?


Ginger said...

LOL! Somehow I managed to get out of the chicken deboning practice myself. Kyle does it every time. I don't complain.

musicmommy3 said...

Sounds good to me. :D

Shannon said...

Wow, Ang! Kudos to you and your family. And it looks like they had fun! Scott has to do any activities like that. I can't even touch a big hunk of meat like that. Every time I make a roast I use to wooden spoons to move it around. Especially raw! My poor, poor husband. And the girls on the days they are not vegetarians!

heartchild said...

Shannon - I forgot about your aversion to all things raw. I love the wooden spoon solution.

Ginger and Shannon - I love how our husbands fill in the areas where we lack.