Chana Masala

I don't know why I've always been scared of making Indian food, but NO MORE EXCUSES. I remembered to buy a bunch of spices when I was near a little Indian grocery store recently, so it was time to dive in. I handled it exactly the way anybody else would; I started with some internet searches then went, "OMG, THIS IS DUMB."

I pestered a co-worker for recipes instead. It required something that probably was borderline harrassment because "a little cumin, garlic, coriander ..." "A little" means so many things to so many people. I need measurements until I know what I'm doing.

I am now competent to stray from measurements. And, uh, y'all, THIS WAS EASY.

Chana Masala

Jasmine rice, prepared according to package instructions
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 yellow onion, finely chopped
1 tablespoon minced garlic
1 1/2 tablespoons minced ginger
1 green chile pepper, chopped (with seeds if you want to burn your face off)
1 teaspoon coriander
1 teaspoon garam masala
1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cans (~14 oz) cans finely diced tomatoes
2 cans (~14 oz) chickpeas, drained and rinsed
Lemon juice
Cilantro, rinsed and chopped

1. In a large saucepan, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the cumin seeds and roast for 2-3 minutes, stirring constantly, until they are a nice golden color.

2. Add the onions, garlic, ginger, and pepper and sauté until the onions are clear (about 5 minutes), stirring frequently. Stir in the coriander, garam masala, turmeric, and salt and cook a few more minutes.

3. Add the diced tomatoes. Stir and smash the tomatoes while cooking them for a minute or two.

4. Raise the heat to medium high and add the chickpeas. Simmer for about 10 minutes, adding lemon juice and/or water if things start to seem too dry.

5. Serve over rice and garnish with cilantro, if you're one of those people who is on speaking terms with cilantro. I still am not, but only because it won't quit growing like a weed in my yard. Seriously, I can't seem to kill it.

Reset the Stupid

No matter how much all things pandemic suck, and they most definitely do, I have to think there can be a few things that it will make better. Like, we get a reset on some of the stupid things we did before, especially things related to kids. I mean, at this point, over 1/4 of Mila's life has been consumed by COVID. We're not far from her not remembering the Before Days. Let's fix some things!

A prime example: Chuck E. Cheese. Mila may vaguely remember it as a place to go to have fun, but that memory is a lie. In reality, Chuck's is a place grown-ups go to punish themselves for having sex. It comes with a side of lame games and "pizza." The quotes are absolutely necessary back there, for what it's worth, because even on a good day, that "pizza" is about as much like the most important food on Earth as a saltine with a smashed tomato and a hunk of plastic on top is. That's not pizza. It's "pizza." When Mila asks to go there, I'm fully intending to reset on history and tell her that we don't do that.

A thing which I can't control but OMG I WISH I COULD is the notion of "spirit days" at school. Look, we're barely holding this in-person school thing together. Do we really need to add a bunch of quirky themes for clothing to the mix? Don't bother telling me that wearing a crazy hat or dressing up like a Dr. Seuss character is fun for kids. You know what else is fun for them? Having a mom who isn't on the edge of breaking from spending two hours looking for the exact hat that is apparently the only acceptable crazy hat in all of this universe.

Not that such a scenario played out here about a month ago. Of course it didn't.

All of that is to say, I hate every single adult who had the bright idea to be all, "Let's wear Steelers gear on Friday to celebrate the playoffs!" No. Noooo. Nopity nope no. LET'S NOT DO THAT.

Mila doesn't own any Steelers anything. You know why? Because it doesn't come with rainbows and sparkles. She may say she wants a Steelers dress, but she wants a Steelers dress that doesn't exist because nobody but a 7-year old going through her mid-childhood crisis would put 14 pounds of sequins, 9 miles of glitter, and a rainbow puking unicorn on the same dress as a Steelers logo. There is no such thing as a Steelers dress or t-shirt or sweatshirt or ANYTHING that Mila will wear more than once.

But she'll wear it once because some evil adults who don't understand this whole "use the pandemic to reset the stupid" thing told her it would be fun.

Jerks.

So, that is how it came to be that I had to venture into public in search of Steelers gear tonight. Yes, tonight. Of course we decided to do this whole spirit thing less than 15 hours before the kid is supposed to participate. OF COURSE.

I took Mila with me because 1) I can't pick things she will wear and 2) Thursday night. Stores were empty. Oh, and I should add a 3. The third reason I took Mila with me is because she says things that remind me that we need to reset the stupid.

Dick's Sporting Goods, I'm talking to you. RESET THE STUPID, PLEASE. For the love of all that is my sanity, please change the name of your store. Now is a great time to do it. We're all a little delirious from trying to navigate all this chaos so we won't even notice.

And why exactly do I have this request? Simple. I would very much so like it if I were to never again hear my 7-year old say, "Can we go to the Dick store?"

The Most Frightening Place on Earth

I've been in a LOT of scary places. The restroom at Stuckey's outside of Columbus, ScareHouse, a hospital emergency room, inside a classroom filled with kindergarteners ... lots of scary places. I've found the winner, though. I have decided that the absolute most frightening place on Earth is a high school parking lot at dismissal.

No, really. It's not for the faint of heart.

The first problem is that high school kids think they're invincible, so not a one of them checks for cars before strolling through the lot. They will absolute walk right in front of your moving car and act SUPER annoyed if you nearly hit them because obviously they are the center of the universe and why didn't you know they were walking behind that tall truck? Duh.

The bigger issue, though, is that they SUCK at driving.

It's not surprising given that most of them got their licenses about ten minutes ago. But, like, they could be less obvious about it. I don't actually enjoy playing bumper cars when I happen to be driving my still new enough to be clean car. (That's a whole other story. It turns out that if you threaten your children enough, they will stop completely trashing the back seat.)

But apparently we have to play bumper cars.

I pick Alexis up from school once per week because she is a sad little teen who can't be bothered to figure out how to take the bus from school to work (it's a legitimate route). Which, whatever. It takes about 20 minutes round trip. It's just that 5 of those minutes involve constant near-death experiences.

Today's trip was highlighted by a lovely moment when two cars on opposite sides of the through way decided to both back up at the same time. They seriously both failed to notice that I was driving through and just backed on up, and they did it opposite each other. I saw them in time to stop and back up and then waited patiently to see if they would collide. They noticed each other about 4 inches before they would have to explain themselves to their parents, so yay? Except that they both slammed on their brakes and then JUST SAT THERE. They couldn't figure out how to work through one of them going first or that at least one of them needed to pull back into a parking space or any of it. They just sat there, back ends of their cars 4 inches apart and blocking the only way through the parking lot.

About an eternity later, it finally dawned on one of them to pull forward. The other one resumed backing, but AGAIN didn't look before doing it and came within an inch of hitting a different care. Then he overreacted and lurched forward REALLY quickly, nearly hitting a different car. I wish I had video of the whole thing because it was a comedy of errors that I would watch and re-watch for hours.

For what it's worth, the peanut gallery was already in the car with me and she was narrating the whole thing. She added a bit of commentary like, "He's not the smartest" escalating to, "WHAT A MORON" so that was extra fun.

When I die in that parking lot some day, it's good to know that she'll be ready to provide the play-by-play.