Thank Your Lucky Biscuits
It's never really a good time to nearly burn your house down, but ten minutes before your kid's birthday party is scheduled to start is probably real high on the Inconvenient Timing list.
Not that I would know.
OK, so I do know. Maybe. I might have sort of had a little incident involving some egg and biscuit goop that spilled in the oven. In trying to scoop it out, I might have sort of accidentally knocked it into the bowels of the oven where it caught on fire and smoked like crazy. There may have been smoke alarms and flames and such involved. Possibly.
But! It wasn't a huge ordeal because I ran around like crazy and opened up every window and door that I could. I successfully managed to air the house out enough to keep everyone from knowing that I'm a pyromaniac. (I hope. At least nobody said anything.)
Of course, a certain person who also lives in this house thought it was HYSTERICAL that I turned all domestically challenged at such a key moment. He might have given me crap about it more times than I would have thought humanly possible. To that I say, how did that karma taste? Hmmm?
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The snow was perfect this weekend for some sledding, a fact which I realized as we were driving around taking care of some errands. As we wrapped up some important stops, I suggested that we dash home for our snow pants and gloves and such then run back out to the big sledding hill in our township.
As we pulled into our driveway, I urged Alexis to move quickly so we'd have enough time to sled before it got dark outside. We literally ran into the house, bundled up, and then went back outside to wait for Mr. Husband to be ready. She and I were goofing around on the patio as he emerged from the house, pulling the door shut behind him. His hand had barely left the doorknob when he turned to me with THAT look and asked, "Where are your keys?"
"In the car," I replied. Since we were just running in and right back out, I had left my camera bag and keys and wallet and such behind.
"Oh," he replied as he walked over to the car. He started to tug on the door. In that instant, I knew.
He had locked the car doors. He ALWAYS locks the car doors.
In fact, he always locks EVERYTHING. The man is obsessed with locking things. Always. He won't even take the dogs for a walk around the neighborhood without locking the house up tight. Given that he is Mr. Locks-a-Lot, OF COURSE he had locked the house door before he pulled it shut.
With his keys inside.
It was 20 something degrees outside and we were locked out, his keys in the house and mine in the car.
You would think that would be no big deal, but you would be wrong. We don't have duplicate keys hidden anywhere. There isn't a keypad wired to our garage door. The neighbors weren't home. There were no tools in the yard that could be used to try to break in through any of the doors.
Fortunately, Mr. Locks-a-Lot had a thought. He scrounged and searched and schemed, and then somehow managed to construct a frightening Leaning Tower of Piza tall enough to sort of reach the bottom of the patio door. It's the door that opens from our second story kitchen. In theory, there should be a deck outside of that door, but decks are for crazy people who have managed to pull together the time and money for a deck. We have managed to pull together the time and money to put boards over the door instead. It's pretty sexy.
Moments later, I learned a very important lesson about that patio door. I learned that it's a damn good thing we don't have a deck because despite the fact that it was locked (of course--I live with Mr. Locks-a-Lot), all you have to do is jiggle it a little bit and it will open, just so long as the deadbolt isn't done. You know, the deadbolt I had unhooked the day prior when I had tried to burn down the house.
Long story short, somehow Mr. Locks-A-Lot managed to get through that patio door. He may have severed an arm or two doing it, but still. Thanks to my wondrous domestic skills, the door had been unbolted and he was able to get in.
And that is why these have been named The Lucky Biscuits. Mr. Locks-a-Lot can thank his lucky biscuits I tried to burn the house down or we would have been in deep doo-doo. Ahem.
Lucky Biscuits (recipe adapted from here)
1 pkg of 10 Pillsbury biscuits (any variety)
3 large eggs
3 tablespoons milk
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1/3 cup feta cheese
1/3 cup Morningstar sausage crumbles (or real sausage or real crumbled bacon)
Shredded cheddar cheese
Preheat oven to 350. Spray muffin pan thoroughly with nonstick cooking spray and then place one biscuit in each of 10 holes. Place biscuits in oven and cook for 6 minutes.
While the biscuits are cooking, mix together the eggs, milk, salt, pepper, and feta cheese in a small mixing bowl.
Remove the partially cooked biscuits from the oven. Use the end of a wooden spoon to push the dough down and against the edges of the muffin pan, creating a hole in each of the biscuits. Fill the holes with the egg mixture, being careful to not overfill the biscuits unless you want to nearly burn your house down. Ahem. Garnish with sausage crumbles (or alternative) and cheddar cheese. Place back in the oven and cook for 15 minutes, or until the egg is set.
They're REALLY good. And lucky.
Recipe
Reader Comments (10)
this is awesome! though I don't usually fall into that whole "everything happens for a reason" spectrum of things- it's a good example!
I love chain of events stories, and this was a good one!
I live with Mr. Locks-a-lot's brother - who also cannot stand to leave the door from the house to the garage open for more than 2.3 seconds. He's worried a mouse is going to RUN right past the screaming, fighting, LOUD children that live here. If a mouse is stupid enough to do that, how hard will it be to catch? What he doesn't know is that I can't follow his 2.3 second rule when I'm loading/unloading 4 kids and all of their various paraphanelia in and out of the house. Sometimes, like when I have to carry a sleeping toddler into the house and up the stairs without waking her, the door is open for a really, really long time.
Also, I always unlock the front door when I'm going to be outside with the kids. I took Baby Girl shopping with me while Little One was napping and Mr. MOTH was playing outside with the boys. Pretty soon I get a call on my cell from an unkown number. It was my husband from the neighbor's saying, "COME BACK QUICK! THE BABY IS LOCKED IN THE HOUSE!" I had closed the garage door when I left (you know, so no mice would sneak in) and that meant he couldn't get to the only unlocked door. Yeah. That was fun.
Yay for posting the delicious recipe!
My dad is Mr. Locks-a-lot. For that reason, I never remember to lock doors because I used to do it as a kid to piss him off. Now my husband locks everything behind me and mumbles under his breath. What does he say? Who cares? I can't hear him!
My husband is a door locker as well. Perhaps we've got enough people here for a support group?
It is so easy to become a domestic ungoddess withe the strain of entertaining. On New Years Day, I forgot the meat thermometer in the oven, in the pork roast. Yum. I was going, where did I put the meat thermometer? And my guest said, did you leave it in the roast? I've done that before. No. I wouldn't do that. Yes, yes I would.
i bet even i could make those lucky biscuits, right? they sound awesome. and becky proof!
Awesome!
Oh, how I love karma! I have to admit that I am the door locker in our household and the primary reason we have one of those code-box-thingies on our garage door. When I lock the door from the garge to the house? Well, then I am screwed. But at least I can get in the garage.
ZOMG. WHen I get iced in tomorrow (AGAIN), I will bake these and hope they are lucky enough to keep me from killing the childrens. Ummm....I'll let you know how it all turns out.