Day 12-13: Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner

Day 12 for The Trophy Wife was a complete wash. I spent so much time yesterday running around town, that I am now wondering when, oh when will I get that nap I have been looking forward to all summer? I mean, what good is being The Trophy Wife if I can't at least enjoy some of the perks of the job? The rest of the week is so jam-packed that I don't think I will be enjoying the perks anytime soon. Yesterday was so bad, I fed Fulghi a bowl of cold cereal for dinner. In truth, I neither fed it to him, nor prepared it for him. Poor Fulghi, works all day, and has to come home to pour his own cold cereal (and milk.)

Only so much can be expected of The Trophy Wife.

I remember hearing other moms complaining that their days just filled up while the kids were at school, and they still never felt like they accomplished anything. To this I said bull....I mean malarkey! Now that I am finding myself in the same position, I see that perhaps I might have judged to quickly, been too harsh, had not put myself in the shoes of these self-sacrificing souls. Those poor, poor women. Unfairly maligned. I too now stand among their ranks. The jig is up. Being The Trophy Wife isn't as easy as they say in the brochures.

So enough of Day 12 (and accompanying whining,) and on to Day 13. I spent this morning at the year's inaugural meeting of my MOMS group at church. I was, natch, on my best behavior. As all who know me can attest, I am a ray of sunshine, bringing cheer to all that encounter me. As My Mother always said to me when I was growing up (and you all know I always listen to My Mother): "Now Melani, be sure that you are a blessing to all who meet you!" And of course, I was. Well, at least I didn't drop any F-Bombs at this meeting. I say this meeting, because at the last meeting, I may or may not have used my good-girl language, per se. But as always, despite my incorrigible behavior, every meeting is full of cackling (usually my own,) and good times.

So for dinner tonight we have Perfect Roast Chicken - which also calls for a pan gravy (pg. 130,) Fingerling Potatoes (pg. 159,) and Roasted Brussels Sprouts (pg. 150.) Hopefully this will make up for last night's Cheerios.

The chicken is filled with fresh thyme, a lemon sliced in half, and a whole head of garlic sliced in half, skin and all. Prep time was minimal. Just a little shoving, tying up and smearing.

Question: Why do I do it?

Answer: I just can't help myself. I am a 7 year old boy trapped inside a rather attractive 38 year old woman's body.

Or, at least that is how I choose to see things...

The chicken all shoved, tied, smeared, and ready for roasting.

The best brussels I've ever had getting ready for a roast.

If you hate brussels, you might give them a try this way. Genius!

The smell of the chicken and the brussels sprouts roasting in the oven is enough to make one weep with joy. I don't know why, but the Cheerios just don't have the same gravitas.

CAUTION! CAUTION! CAUTION! CAUTION! CAUTION!

Trying this recipe at home may cause sudden death due to the overwhelmingly fabulous taste of all courses. Proceed at your own risk.

The final product, plated.