He's on to Me

BSM: What's in this bin?
Me: Just some shmutz. It's fine.
BSM: But why?
Me: It's fine. It doesn't bother us.
BSM: It bothers me!
Me: (And thus the free ride ends.)

Chicken Cooking: A Photo Essay

Aw, look! The roasting chicken comes pre-trussed. It's almost a shame that I'm spatchcocking it...

No, wait. Back up. Not a shame. That isn't butcher's twine: it's a rubber band. Who does that???

***

For reference purposes, here's what my spatchcocked chicken looked like before going into the oven. Spatchcocked chickens cook more evenly and much more quickly than those sent into the oven looking like a bowling ball.

Lag B'Omer

BSM may have had school on Israeli Independence Day, but he had off on Lag B'Omer. Since it fell out on a Sunday this year, we decided to make a family day of it. We opted to do something enjoyable that wouldn't encroach on anyone's sleep, so nighttime bonfires were out. Instead, we went to the Truck and Transport Museum. A great time was had by all.

However, when we went to school the next day, I reconsidered that decision. You see, I thought that since BSM's preschool had a bonfire on Friday (yes, you read that correctly: the preschool had a bonfire in honor of Lag B'Omer, and BSM tells me that the children threw wood in, but no touching!) it was okay for him to skip the big kids' bonfires at night.

But when we got to school, the teacher had just arrived and was asking the children what they had done for Lag B'Omer.

"A bonfire!"
"A bonfire!"
"A huge bonfire!"
"A bonfire!"
"Bonfire!"
"A bonfire so big you could burn Haman in it!" (I'm not making that up, the kid totally said that.)
"Really tall bonfire!"
She turns to BSM.
"Truck Museum!"

Immigrants. They're just weird.