Last night, when trying to discern the answer to the nightly question:  “What the heck are we going to have for dinner?!!?”, I thought it should go with the theme of the night, you know, The Election.  Something to celebrate the end to the tv ads, something to commemorate the ceasing of throwing five or six mean mail advertisements straight into the recycling bin.  And yeah, I suppose something to note that this was a bit of a historical event as every.newscaster.and.media.person liked to remind us (I kept thinking, Isn’t every election historic?  In someway?  Even if they only served for a little while, history will Still Know.  But enh, what does this history major know).

Now, the weather has turned in Oregon.  The coats and galoshes are out, folks are recognizing they need to replace their windshield wipers, and I’m back in my hiking socks and full-body long johns (which momentarily I thought about how late in the season it was that I hadn’t needed them, and maybe I was turning into a warm-blooded human after all these years:  I was wrong).  So what sounds good for dinner?   What sounds electoral?  Soup?  Enchiladas?  Sausage and bean casserole?

Nope:  how about Barack Obama Chili!  Now, I’ve tried the “candidate recipes” in the past, which generally consists of cookie recipes, and they haven’t really been all that spectacular.  Plus, some of them are rumored to have been “borrowed“.  But President Elect Barack Obama should know what he’s talking about, right?

Right.  It wasn’t like My Mama’s Chili (oh, My Mama’s Chili, which neither my brother nor I can replicate:  it’s a delicate balance between Oh So Good and Pot of Spicy Bleck), but the noises heard at the dinner table were pretty yummy in nature.  The cheese and green onions really did it for me, and I added salt.  But overall, it was a very enjoyable, and affirming experience, ensuring that the creation and consumption of Good Chili should be had for the next four years at the White House and potentially other important places in the Free World.

Last night, as JJ was bouncing around his room, *not* getting ready for bed, and I was picking up his room, the outcome of his *not* taking a nap, I apparently got cranky.  I remember a friend once voicing about the Mama Monster that comes out after a certain time of night, that everything is fine and fun and games, but then say 8:00pm rolls around, the limit is hit, and then it’s “WHY ARE THESE KIDS STILL UP WHY IS THE HOUSE SUCH A MESS EVERYONE NEEDS TO CLEAN UP AND GO TO BED RIGHT NOW AND BY RIGHT NOW I MEAN FIFTEEN MINUTES AGO!’  Well, she didn’t say it like that, but that’s what this Mama Monster says.

So, apparently my Monster had come out to lead in the nightly bedtime ritual, and my Monster must be cold-blooded like me (despite the warmth of the chili), because JJ bounded into bed, pulling up his covers, muttering, “Mama’s lost her temper-a-ture.”

Yes, son, yes:  in so many more ways than one.  Maybe that’s why you’re so interested in thermometers. 

Daily Drivel, JJ Jawings, Mama Musings