That sounds nice, right? Sweet, right?
Well, it does sound nice. And it does sound sweet.
But, unfortunately, it was not.
It ended up not being true.
Let me backtrack.
I was making sloppy joes for dinner. I had wanted to make my Sloppy Joe Pie, but time only allotted for the making of sloppy joes.
I was browning my meat. I was humming. I was drinking my Kung Fu Girl wine. I decided, Hmmmm, maybe someone would like to see how I make my sloppy joes. My husband is smirking at my secret thoughts right now. I added my dashes of worcestershire sauce and garlic powder to my meat. And I took a picture.
Oh, yes! This is lookin’ good, thought my Kung Fu brain.
I took another picture.
Which turned out fine.
But what you cannot see.
What you are not seeing, is me dumping the whole sloppy joe packet down the front of my pajamas (don’t tell me you don’t cook in your pajamas, my heart could not bear it. Actually, I was wearing these pajamas).
It landed all over the floor.
Of course, I thought.
Of course. I am making Sloppy Joes. How could I make them and not be sloppy?
My husband sweetly vacuumed up my mess while I finished dinner. Here is a tip: I add a quarter cup of ketchup to my sloppy joe mixture, in addition to the tomato paste the packet calls for (and yes, I had to open up a new packet. Because my other one was consumed in equal parts by the floor and the vacuum).
We ate dinner. I forgot about my mishap. Moved along. Took pictures of my fancy food.
Later, I laid down in our bed to read my husband and my son a bit of “The Magician’s Elephant” (review coming soon. Spoiler: I give it a ten out of ten).
My son cuddled up next to me.
“Mom. You smell good!”
My heart melted.
“I do?” I thought about what it could be. Could it be my deodorant or my IF perfume? I had worn both forever. I was surprised it had taken him this long to comment on liking them.
“What do I smell like?”
He thought. Then he sniffed loudly.
“Garlic bread!” He proclaimed.
“Whhhhhaaaaaatttttt?” I unhappily asked.
He tried to make me feel better. “I love garlic bread!” He assured me.
This was still not what I wanted to hear.
I sniffed my shirt where he had been laying. It did smell like garlic.
I looked inside the pocket. And I gasped. Inside the pocket of my top was half of the sloppy joe packet I had dropped earlier.
I guess my shirt was hungrier than the floor and the vacuum.
I quickly went into the laundry room and changed. But I could not help reflecting on the fact that making sloppy joes had turned out to be messier than I had thought it would be.
I was downright sloppy.
Wait for it.
I was a Sloppy Jenni.
But it was okay.
Little boys are crazy for the stuff.
And I can think of a lot worse things than smelling like garlic bread.
But not much.
P.S. Happy Valentine’s Day! Today I am wearing a bright pink caftan that I bought on sale. It makes me feel ultra feminine and romantic. What are you wearing today? Doing today? We are going out to lunch as a couple and then I am making homemade chicken noodle soup for dinner with the family.
I hope your day is sweet!
And that you don’t smell like garlic. Or sloppy joes! Or worse, Sloppy Jenni!
P.S. I shared this on Savvy Southern Style.
And My Romantic Home.