When my dad plays golf, he tees off a minimum of three times and proceeds to play each ball for the duration of the hole. Although he may play four balls, he only records the best score for each hole. Not cheating, but not quite how the official rules go.
I insist on being ‘banker’ every time I play Monopoly. This allows me to withdraw greater amounts of money than permitted; a loan if you will. Since I’m banker, nobody knows about my zero interest loans that I accidentally forget to pay back. Not cheating, but not quite how the official rules go. Oh shoot, okay, it is cheating.
For summer project #5, I had to incorporate a bit of my dad’s golfing ‘technique’ and a dose of my Monopoly con-artistry. You see, it was required for this particular dinner to be impressive after all the boasting of I’ve done of myself. “Move over Paula Dean”, “Martha Who?”, and “Heir of THE Suzie Homemaker” are only of the few non-truths I’ve labeled myself. With such big talk, I knew I had to concoct a breath taking meal; One that was disaster-proof.
“I found this great recipe I’m going to try, I sure hope it turns out okay,” was the preface for Mexican chicken casserole. I didn’t include that my mother taught me how to cook this delicious entrée when I was old enough to turn on the oven. It’s one of those recipes that I’ve cooked so many times that I no longer need the recipe to follow. I knew if I confessed this truth though, then there would be greater expectations. I didn’t cheat, I just didn’t exactly follow the official ‘summer projects’ rules.
In less than 24 hours, then entire dish had been consumed. I had (for the 692nd time) poured my cooking expertise into a simply irresistible casserole. Cha-ching!
Disclaimer: I picked every single shred of poultry out of my serving. Long live the chickens.
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