This morning started off just like every morning. B woke up with T around 7am. They went downstairs to snuggle and wake up. They usually watch some sort of super hero movie or cartoon, this morning it was Spiderman. I packed up lunch for T. We said our goodbyes and received lots of kisses. He then took the trash to the curb and left for work. Pretty basic morning routine for us.
It was time for B and I to eat breakfast and since I was in the mood for sausage and eggs….
Me- “Bug, do you want sausage and eggs for breakfast?”
B yells back- “No! I want marshmallows, hotdogs and cheese. Warmed up in the microwave please!”
I leave the kitchen in order to tell him in person- “Dude, you’re gross.”
B replies very seriously- “No, I’m hungry for what I like.”
(B is nearly 4 but he has the quick wit I started exhibiting at the age of 8)
B was disappointed when I denied the warmed-up marshmallows, hotdog and cheese dish. I told him, “You’ll live.” He shrugged saying, “I know Momma, but I won’t be happy about it.” “What if I made you that for lunch?” “Ok that sounds like a deal. But I won’t smile about it.” He then went back to watching Spiderman.
I opened the sausage package and read the instructions. I found it odd that they came with cooking instructions. Don’t you just cook them over medium heat, turning to brown them? Anywho, the instructions told me to place them in a skillet, cook over medium heat, adding 1/3 cup water to the pan. Cover and steam them for 10 minutes or until reaching 170 degrees.
I’ve never steamed sausage before. But since I had never cooked this brand, I did as I read.
- They turned out a really weird fleshy grey color that was NOT appealing to look at it.
- They seemed to have water and air trapped under the casing.
- They felt a little slimy.
Something was wrong with these sausages. When I took them off the heat, they “deflated” and the watery juice came out. They now looked like ripply-pruned skin that’s been in water for far too long. Or a very old person’s hand? Take your pick. After cooling a bit more the skin still looked old but tight. Like overly moisturized old lady hands. (I’m aware “moisturized” is not a word. It’s going to bother me all day.)
I brought the sausage out to the living room to see if B would notice how weird they looked. He didn’t. He took a bite. He paused while chewing and says, “Mom, these taste like pancakes and feel weird in my mouth.” He looked intently at the sausage on the plate in front of him while chewing and said, “The sausage is peeling. I think you did something wrong. Fix them please.” I agreed. I couldn’t eat them like that either.
I took them into the kitchen to do sausage surgery.
I wasn’t quite sure if I could eat the sausages now, but, I was pretty hungry. So I resolved to forget the whole experience and feast on some post peeled sausages. I brought them back out.
A couple bites in B calls out. “Mom? Can you come here?” I enter the room. He’s holding his fork in the air with a piece of sausage that’s been dipped in ketchup.
He says, “This sausage is like a Zombie. It just keeps peeling.” There is a small piece of skin hanging off of the sausage. B begins to cackle in his maniacal way and continues talking about the sausage. He is totally mocking me too. I can tell. He thinks I am a sausage cooking failure. “If the Hulk saw this sausage he’d say HULK SMASH! And Thor would shoot it with lightning from his hammer.” “B, I’m pretty sure the Avengers wouldn’t concern themselves with my sausauge. I bet Ironman would eat it.” B pauses and for a second I think he may agree with me. No, he doesn’t. “I’m pretty sure Ironman would shoot it with his arc light.” Nice B, nice. “Will you get this skin off for me? Please.” I do. He eats it all then looks to me and says, “Thanks mom. I hope lunch is better…” (I’m sure it will be. How can I mess up marshmallows, hotdogs and cheese?)
I peeled off sausage condoms for that little boy of mine and he gives me heck all through breakfast.
I hope everyone has a great start to their morning and no one ever has to encounter sausage condoms…
UPDATE: B’s lunch WAS a success. Picture proof.