Wednesday, May 13, 2009

And This Is Why I Hate Cooking

I've poisoned my family. This includes my two furry children.

Well, in fairness, I really have no idea if I've poisoned anyone or not. No one, including the dogs, has actually gotten sick yet. But if I had to hazard a guess, based on the unsettled condition of my stomach at this exact moment in time, I would say that there is the potential for a very long, very messy night.

On the menu this evening was our old standby, tuna casserole. To the credit of all previous tuna casseroles, we have never before felt ill after eating it. I'm blaming the cheese. You see, I used a different cheese blend, and the bag had been in my fridge for at least a couple of weeks. I think. I'm not entirely certain, actually. The bag was unopened, though, so I figured it was fine. Despite the fact that it smelled... well, weird. But I told myself that cheese ALWAYS smells weird to me. I don't like it unless it's melted over a select few meals.

But then I ate it. And it tasted weird. Even in all of it's melty gooey-ness, it tasted weird. However, I am apparently an extreme master at convincing myself of whatever I need to, as I told myself that I was just being a wuss. The cheese was fine, eat it. So with a mental shrug, I ate it.

I should have taken the hint when Bug dropped his first serving all over the floor, thereby allowing the dogs to partake of my poisonous creation. While they seemed excited and grateful at the time, I have a sneaking suspicion that sometime in the next few hours they will be plotting various ways they can ensure my demise. If I'm lucky, it might cure their unfortunate tendency to beg for table food. They so rarely get it that I'm always amazed they think they can keep asking.

Anyway, back to the poisonous cheesy gooey-ness I insisted on feeding my family tonight.

I'm only feeling slightly like forming a more intimate bond with the seat in our Family Conference Room at the moment. Neither of the boys, nor the dogs, are exhibiting any symptoms as of yet. But I'm dying. I'm sure of it.

At least I won't have to cook anymore.


Flea said...

I'm sure you're dead by now, so you won't be reading this comment.

You're probably just coming down with something and nothing tastes or smells right. It's probably NOT the cheese. Cheese keeps for a good decade or more in the fridge. :)

Karen said...

I hope it's not the cheese, but I don't know how food poisoning compares to the flu. It might actually be better.

It might be the flu though. I haven't been feeling well and I'm blaming the giardia. Maybe it's just a virus. A nation wide one.

Shoot. We've got the swine flu. We're hosed.