Getting Older . . . Not Better

Life Is But A Bowl of Peaches

©Animation Factory

 © 2002 Carole Moore

One day last week I arose and made my children some Toaster Scamblers ® for breakfast. They look like brown rubber squares -- and smell like a lab experiment. Reportedly they contain bacon and eggs, all wrapped up in some crusty thing. And, as I sent my children to school full of plastic food, I had one of those Rotten Mommy Moments.

You know the kind: I am a rotten mommy because I'm sure all of the other mommies in the world are feeding their children homemade muffins made with no fat or sugar and all organic ingredients.

Feeling like a pretender to the Mommy Throne, I decided to buy one of those frozen yogurt-ice cream makers. Don't ask me what this has to do with breakfast because the answer is "absolutely nothing." But I figured it would help me over the breakfast guilt phase if I could offer them something nutritious in the evening – sort of balance out the Bad Mommy phase with a Good Mommy phase and maybe just be a Middle of the Road Mommy.

I bought it and peeked at the little book that came with it and found a recipe for lowfat peach frozen yogurt. I went to the store and bought all the ingredients –  it cost me $6.00. Then I returned home, washed the yogurt thing, got out my blender and started to make the liquid stuff you pour in the yogurt maker. Heck – I thought – I'm on a roll, so I'll make a double batch and be an Excellent Good Mommy.

So I started pouring the ingredients in the blender and, guess what? Once I had half of what I needed to put in the blender I realized an 8-cup blender cannot hold 12 cups! So I blended part of what I had and poured it in a pitcher, then put the other part in, mixed with some of the first part. I spent 15 minutes of my adult life pouring this stuff back and forth like a mad chemist, but eventually I mixed it all up. Of course, dabbling in the fine culinary arts has its share of danger: Once the little plastic thing in the middle of the blender top fell off after I hit the "On" button and peach-colored yogurt stuff flew everywhere, so I had peach-colored hair and peach splats on the ceiling.

But I still had enough left for one batch, so I cleaned up my mess and pulled out the instruction book again and it said "in just 25 minutes" I could have frozen yogurt – about the amount of time until my son would return  home. Saint Motherhood was within my grasp.

Now for the small print: As I prepared to pour the orange colored stuff into the yogurt thing, I discover you have to freeze the blankety-blank container for 6 to 22 hours before using it. Mine had been in the freezer for less than two hours.

That did it. I put the pitcher of mix in the fridge and figured we'd have it tomorrow. I went back to work at my computer and then my son came home. About a half an hour later he informed me the orange juice stuff in the purple pitcher tasted weird, but he drank it anyway.

I would like to add that a gallon of premium frozen yogurt can be had full price for well under $6.00 and can usually be found on sale.

Call the parent police -- I'll go quietly. Just don't feed me any frozen yogurt while I'm locked up.

 

Home -- About the Humor Writer -- Getting Older . . . Not Better -- Potpourri

Encounters of the Kid Kind -- Life With A Man

The Perils of Eileen -- The New Adventures of Eileen --  My Serious Side

-- Supporters -- My Fan Mail -- Archives, 2001 -- Archives, 2002 -- Kids Corner News

Send a letter to the Editor or ask about freelance rates --  I'm all ears! Drop me a note here

Please report any difficulties to the Webmistress

 

Carole Moore helps you laugh at the every day challenges of family life.