There is a lot of role-playing that goes on around my house.
Not that kind of role-playing, sheesh.
What I mean is that sometimes Bridget really gets into a book and we have to act like the characters. I’ll usually make a meal that goes along with the theme and then we’ll watch the movie adaptation if there is one.
This means that I’m always Mrs. Weasley, when Bridget is in a Harry Potter mood and she’s the clever Hermoine Granger. I like Mrs. Weasley but seriously… do I always have to be the dowdy mom?
The weather had been so frigid that I was craving a nice warm pot roast for dinner. This inspired me to put my Molly Weasley apron on and don my not so great British accent so that we could have a Harry Potter movie night.
I found a figure friendly coffee braised pot roast recipe and got to work. I was so proud of myself that I even took pictures as I cooked to show you all how domesticated I am…
I popped it in the oven and let it slow cook for the rest of the afternoon. I felt so accomplished that I was even inspired to get a bottle of red wine to go with it.
“Oh, that would be lovely, Dear.” That’s Mrs. Weasley. See how awesome I am at getting into character?
After picking up Bridget from school I went to the liquor store that I always go to, picked out my favorite cheap wine and headed to the cash register. The girl at the counter, who is probably ten years younger than me, asked me for my ID. I smiled at her and I went to get it out of my wallet, when I remembered that I don’t have my driver’s license. (It got lost when I withdrew money from the bank a few days ago.) I tried to explain to her the situation and that I went in there all of the time and that the baby and ten year old were indeed mine but she continued to eye me skeptically. Then she called over to Larry to see if he recognized me.
“Nope, I don’t recognize her… sorry Hun, but we can’t sell it to you.”
I had to bite my lip so hard. I was this close to telling him that I was not only of age but by more than a decade. I had spent more than four days in solitary confinement with my children who can’t seem to sleep at night. I’ve had slobbery fingers shoved up my nose and in my mouth. I’ve been puked on, pooped on and had my hair pulled. All I was asking for was simple glass of wine to go with my pot roast. And if he wanted to call me “Hun” again I would show him just how much of a “sweetheart” I was by taking that bottle and…
But I didn’t.
Instead, I snatched my credit card from the girl and stalked out cursing myself for not wearing makeup… or taking a shower for that matter.
I was still seething as I started to prepare the honey roasted parsnips and carrots that were to go with our jolly Harry Potter meal. I called my friend KJ to see if she wanted to join us and told her about my run in. Being the great friend that she is she went and got me my wine and had dinner with us. We totally forgot to do the Harry Potter thing and the roast was cold by the time I got the carrots and parsnips on the table.
It wasn’t long before I was in bed, but it didn’t last long. After another long night I woke up today wanting to eat a dozen doughnuts in an attempt to chase the tired away. (I eat my feelings.) But I didn’t have doughnuts I had eggs instead. I did however, break my no sugar coffee rule and guzzled it down as I tried to balance school work and entertaining Penelope. Before I knew it, it was nap time… HALLELUJAH!
After I put Penelope down I realized that I still hadn’t eaten lunch. I asked Bridget if she wanted to have our Harry Potter meal for lunch and watch a movie.
She said “No, the roast tasted like coffee…eew. But I’m so into this book. It is like SO GOOD, it has a plot that you would never expect it’s like OH MY GOSH…” she carried on while I made my lunch.
Bridget went back to her book and I sat by the fire with my Molly Weasley meal and my own book to enjoy.
As I took a sip of my wine I thought to myself, how the hell does Mrs. Weasley do it?