Wooo hooo, back to work.
Well, that euphoria didn't very long, unsurprisingly. Work is just ... work. I'm ever so envious of anyone who actually knows what they want to do with their lives and actually does it. I still don't have a clue I want to be when I grow up.
So why skank mum? (Tom Jones singing Sex Bomb with the title words replaced by Skank Mum is on my internal jukebox and I thought I'd share that particular joy with you. You're welcome) Edwin & I had frozen pizza for dinner. And if that bad enough, we had oven chips too.
Edwin's already the only child I know who doesn't like ketchup but now it appears he doesn't like pizza either.
So after some gentle teasing from my friend at work for our dinner plans, I'm going to make fried rice for dinner tomorrow. For good fried rice, you should use rice which is a day old so I cooked the rice tonight - JUST NOW.
The wrong bloody rice.
Short grain rice instead of long grain. YES IT DOES BLOODY MATTER. Tomorrow's dinner is going to be a stodgy mess. Buggerit.
Which makes me think, is 6 kinds of rice* in the kitchen too many?
*
short grain
long grain
basmati
brown basmati
arborio
pudding rice
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