Kev and Andy are leaving me (ok us, since Miss Kat is staying home with me.) The menfolk are going on a fishing trip this weekend. They're meeting up with our former hunting buddy and my "other" husband at the Glen Elder Reservoir in north-central Kansas. This trip is something they used to do quite frequently. Gene, the hunting buddy used to take his little boy, and Kev would take Andy and Lynn would take himself, but Lynn is the one I used to worry about. He just can't be trusted not to teach little boys things that Mamma's don't like.
Like how to put out the fire without using water, but using another readily available liquid. (Think of boys spelling their name in the snow.)
And to think, that I call Lynn my "other" husband. There must be something wrong with me...But anyway, Andy's grown up and Lynn doesn't teach him any bad things anymore...at least I don't think he does.
Back to the trip. They're leaving Friday morning. And Kev's been working fairly hard these last few days at getting them ready. He's checked out the camper, he's checked out brakes and lights and gathered up umpteen fishing poles, other manly things like that.
Me...I'm getting their food ready. I'm not going, and I still have to cook for this trip. Where's the justice in that?
Last night, I made two batches of Enchiladas for the boys to take. See, Kev only married me for my Enchiladas, and the "other" husband likes them almost as much (but he hasn't offered to marry me yet...what's with that?) I made a double batch. Four or five men...20 enchiladas...it should be enough for one meal.
20 tortillas, 4 cups of homemade chili sauce, probably 4 lbs of deer burger, 3 tablespoons of minced garlic, two large onions and two pounds of cheese. That's a lot of food! I was tired by 9:30 when the last pan came out of the oven.
Tonight, I get to make corn flake chewies for the boys. I think those cookies will be the last thing I cook for this fishing trip. But somehow, I don't think my involvement in getting ready for the trip will be finished tonight.
I wonder, why does a fishing trip require so much work from someone who isn't even going?