Forgetting major things is becoming a trend at our house.
Today after church we had a dinner guest. Rex Griffin moved into our ward last week from Colorado Springs, so we thought it would be a great idea to get to know him better (and sell him our house...just kidding...maybe not...). Anyway, I planned a lovely pot roast dinner and got everything ready to go this morning. We attend church from 1-4 p.m. Dinner had to happen precisely at 5:00 so I could be back at church for choir practice at 6:00.
Everything was going well until 4:02 p.m., just as someone said the closing prayer in Primary. My thoughts were drifting toward mashed potatoes and beef gravy when, with a sudden intake of breath, I realized I had neglected to put the roast in the oven. Instead of simmering at 300 degrees for four hours in an onion and bullion bath, our chuck roast was pretty and pink in the refrigerator. And we were without a main dish.
If we hadn't been expecting company, I would have laughed and poured four bowls of cereal. Pot roast will make a wonderful meal tomorrow, after all. Instead we had a frenetic hour and served ham and rice casserole fifteen minutes late. Brother Griffin didn't care and we survived our dinner date.
But see, folks? This is what happens when I make an effort with dinner. The other night I burned the chicken, and tonight I forgot to cook the beef. A few more experiences like this and we might just slip back into the routine of Breakfast for Dinner/Choose Your Own/Pick Something Frozen and Nuke It cuisine. It's just not worth the aggravation.