Why are there crumbs on your face?

Ever get caught with your hand in the cookie jar? I'm pretty sure we all have! What a look of surprise and the great story of denial while leaving evidence all over our face!

One night while working the graveyard shift at an Alzheimer's unit, I brought my lunch with me and had it put away in the house kitchen. A little before I was ready, I warmed up my soup, set it aside and put the rest of my lunch out on the table.

There was a lady, (whom I will refer to as "Evie"), who for whatever reason would not sleep in her bed. Or sleep at night for that matter. I knew she had been up and walking around wandering like any other night.

I went to check on everyone in their rooms and figured my soup had cooled down enough and it was time for me to eat.
When I came into the kitchen, I grabbed my soup, spoon, napkin and my drink heading toward the table where I had placed my sandwich and fruit.

IT WAS GONE!

I couldn't believe it, where the heck was my lunch? I began to look everywhere. Ironically taking in where I was, I began to wonder if I myself had began to loose my memory! All I could do is look at the table and let the wheel spin!

Suddenly, Evie comes in and asks me what's wrong. I look to her and say, "My lunch is gone!", she in turn said, "Oh Honey! Someone took your lunch?", I reply "Yes!". In her own cuteness that I had grown to love, Evie came over, grabbed my arm and said full of concern, "Come on honey let's go see who took your lunch".

As we walked out of the kitchen into the hallway, which was much more lit, I noticed sandwich crumbs and a piece of banana skin hanging from her mouth! I couldn't believe it! The culprit was there the whole time!

I will never forget this nor will I forget my Evie!
This blog was created with the idea of "comfort stories" in mind.

Thank you for letting me share my comfort story of Evie and my lunch!

We have comfort foods, memories of being in the kitchen cooking/baking with our families, super bowl parties, holiday meals, bake sales, the first time we made that dinner to impress that special someone in our life and the many times your neighbors knew you were trying something new because of your smoke alarms going off!

My Mom Irene, raised three girls. Me,Tania and my two sisters, Heather and Tricia, were encouraged to help in the kitchen. Our mother always made our birthday cakes which reminds me of all the Wilton Classes the took and the endless tips and bags she used!
Well, two out of three of us were successful in the kitchen. Yes, I was that one percent! I wanted nothing to do with anything related to a stove more less the dishes that came with this "fun" thing called cooking!

Not until MANY years later when I met my special someone I wanted to impress, did I really make a genuine effort to take my next step into domesticating myself! If you knew me you would be in a continuous roll of laughter right now!

So what do I go for?

What could I, the girl that can't even make rice, possibly want to make for him for our first dinner? Fried pork chops! Whoa Nelli!

Long story short, I looked like an idiot turning every which way from the stove, turning the fire up, down, up, shit too hot, down... burning myself and with each "POP", raising my arms to my face as if I were some vampire that had had the roof ripped off in the Mojave Desert!

No ladies, I have no idea what the hell I'm doing! So here we are!

Follow along as I share my experiences and allow my Mom and sisters to contribute their stories, recipes, tips and more.

Or just stick around to laugh at me!