A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I invited some friends and their two young sons over for a late afternoon swim and dinner. It was a typical Tucson summer day - temperature over 100 and lots of sunshine. There's nothing better than a little pool party and barbecue with friends who make you laugh, relax and enjoy the day.
I made a huge tray of shish kabobs - beef and chicken - with lots of fresh vegetables. Ummm! Yummy! Also made some really good cracker spread with cream cheese, garlic and sun-dried tomatoes for snacks and some triple chocolate brownies for dessert. It was going to be a great day - especially with a nice big bucket of frozen margarita's and cold beer.
Early evening and my husband decides to fire up the grill. He puts the shish kabobs on and they start to sizzle away. My friend prepared her ceasar salad and a nice rice dish. We were ready to go. I bring the meat into the house and realize it is cooked! I mean REALLY cooked!! So much so we almost couldn't get the skewers out.
I was just a little irritated with my husband. It had taken a lot of time to marinate the meat, cut up all the fresh vegetables and put those shish kabobs together. Darn. Oh well. At least we had a nice salad and a great rice dish. And dessert would be awesome.
Time for dessert. I get out the ice cream and start to cut the pan of brownies - they were gooey! I mean REALLY gooey!! And I start to think - it's a good thing I hadn't said anything to my husband about the over cooked meat. I was trying to serve everyone under cooked brownies.
To top it all off, our friends' 5 year old son had told me earlier in the day that my crackers (the ones to go with the great cheese spread) tasted like DOG BISCUITS! His mom and I laughed and asked "what did you say?". He shook the cracker at me and said "You should know, your crackers taste like DOG biscuits". Laughing really hard, I asked him if he had been snitching the dog treats at home and he said "No, I just smelled them". I love kids. They just tell you exactly what's on their minds with no hidden agenda. If they think it tastes bad they're going to tell you. Guess kids just don't like multi-grain crackers.
We all survived (thank goodness for the frozen margarita's and cold beer). My friends were very gracious, but I know the next time I see them, the husband will give me a really hard time about my lack of cooking skills and about my DOG biscuits. When we invite them back again, he'll come, tease the daylights out of me and make me laugh.
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