Happy Homemaker, Ph.D.

A novice homemaker's attempts to use her engineering Ph.D. to serve her family

Here He Comes to Save the Day – Again!

My weekend did not go as planned.

First, my dear husband came home from work early on Friday due to a back injury.  He was unable to see the chiropractor until the following morning, and he was really hurting.  Chad had also invited a friend from work and his wife over for supper the next day, with the plan of grilling tri-tip.   When Chad grills, I’m usually only responsible for the really easy side dishes: heating up some baked beans, maybe baking some crescent rolls, and preparing some potatoes of some sort.

With the cold weather in the forecast for that day and Chad’s pain, I thought it would be nice for me to volunteer to cook the supper.  Not being the grill master that Chad is, I decided I’d make barbecue meatballs (one of Chad’s favorites), scalloped potatoes, some vegetables, and some kind of bread.

I waited for Chad’s okay to take over the plans.

He wanted to talk to his friend first, to confirm that he’d be coming.

The morning passed.  The afternoon began.  I still didn’t have groceries…  I started to stress.

I got our daughter down for her nap and finally headed to the store.  While there, I didn’t get a can of evaporated milk, sure that I still had one in my cupboard.  I purchased the items on my grocery list and headed for home.

I went straight to work, preparing cornbread muffins (from a Jiffy mix, don’t be too impressed) that called for a higher oven temperature, then peeling potatoes while the muffins baked.  I made the sauce needed for the non-dairy scalloped potatoes we like so they would have close to the two hours of baking time the recipe called for.

Without a break, I moved on to the meatballs.  Seeing my can of evaporated milk was 12 oz. instead of 5 oz., I decided to make a double batch that we could then freeze part of.  I put the ground beef and oatmeal into a bowl before opening the can of milk.

Strange.  I don’t remember ever seeing little chunks like that in a can of evaporated milk.  Maybe I just didn’t shake it well enough?  (I hoped.)  I poured it in, or I should say, I tried to pour it in.  The milk wasn’t flowing.  I opened the can more completely, only to have a bad-smelling glob go into my meat mixture.

Ever the optimist, I hoped that it might be alright still, but to be safe, I asked Chad to smell it.  He agreed with me that it smelled like the milk had gone bad.

By now, it’s 4:15, and the guests are due to come at 5:30.  I don’t know whether to cry or to go to the store to start over.  I’m definitely leaning toward the crying!   Chad gave me a big hug and became my hero (again) as he calmly said he’d go to the store and get a tri-tip.

He fired up the grill, went to the store, returned in fifteen minutes, seasoned the meat, and began grilling.  Not only did he save the dinner, but he intervened to save my sanity, and he introduced our guests to something special.  (Tri-tip is well-known in California, it seems, but not as well-known in Kansas yet.)

While he was gone, I continued an internal dialog with my frustration at having ruined the meat, having not been more sensible about the milk when I first noticed the chunks, and probably a million other shortcomings that came to mind.

I am so thankful to have such a wonderful husband who loves me, who works so hard to support our family, who sacrifices for us in so many ways, and who is always there when I need him!  God definitely knew what He was doing when He introduced us over seven years ago!