cop-out

You know what I did today?

Nothing.

I was to go man a stall for the Lego league team I coach at the ICF at Wolftrap. I’d written about how fun that place is last year, but no didn’t go this year. In fact I bailed out last minute. Actually I didn’t bail, but, sent a sub.
The husband.

I was the only one scheduled to go, then I reflected back on the drive, the long walk from parking, to the Filene Center, the humid building with various gadgetry around and the zilllions of kids who currently do not send me into throes of mommy love. All so much fun based on which side the wind blows. Then I remembered that there is no place to sit. Except on the ground. Which I cannot. No, I love sitting on the grass and watching live shows, the catch being the knee’s swollen and lifting it 2 inches off the ground is a herculean task in itself. I debated about carrying a chair with me, then realized we each had enough to lug to the setup anyway. So convinced my co-coach to go for at least half the time and then I’d take over for the next couple of hours. I already had a scheme going in my head.

Considering my daughter knows more about the darned bots and legos than any or all of us put together at this point in time, she was asked to represent the team from last year for this session. The son of course thinks he knows stuff, but ultimately shuts up when she starts talking. So sent the two packing along with two other boys from my (son’s) team.

Incidentally, she’s the only female with all the boys out there.
Incidentally, I am also the only female in my son’s team. I have 2 co-coaches, and 7 boys creating a din in my basement every Sunday. I’d thought I’d be relegated to serving popcorn and grapes in bowls but I surprised myself the last few meetings. Leave them alone, one can kiss our missions goodbye.

So anyways, after the kids left, I turned to the husband, and started talking. He refused to look at me while I laid the whole plan out.
At the end he said “what?”
I stared back.
He said “what?”
I did the lower lip pout, lifted my skirt showed the knee and turned doe eyes on him. I could have brought my supply of tears if the pout didn’t work.
He said “so?”
Knowing I’d be yelled at for signing up for such stuff in the first place, I then raised an eyebrow. Since tears are boring and there’s no surety in them, I decided I’d just go the Bush doctrine route.
I launched an attack.
Halfway through, he got up and said “ok, what time?”
I again laid out the times. I further elaborated how fun it would be to see folks from different parts of the world perform there.
Munchkin pipes in “dance? Is there a dance mommy?”

Slam Dunk!

Now there was no more escape.
After packing the crazed bot and munchkin wearing a tee that said “I am always right” along a hypotenuse of a right angled triangle, I sat back and did nothing. I didn’t return calls, I didn’t browse the net, I didn’t check the blog, I didn’t do laundry and neither did I work on the presentation on Monday at work.
What I did do though was to take a 45 minute long shower. Then I came down and switched on the TV. Flipping channels, saw Sleepless in Seattle on TBS. Decided I’d watch it again.
Then I got hungry.
Not feeling like eating leftovers, I raided the pantry. I saw a pack of ravva idli mix. Pieces of a 2 day old conversation from a reunited old friend from Sulekha, floated in. Alright, I told myself.

Nostalgia set in and I missed my ammumma (grandma. the name really means mom’s mom, but I called my dad’s mom that). One lovely lady whom I would always admire for her spunk, integrity and enthusiasm. The lady watched Bold and Beautiful and told us what happened when we sisters couldn’t watch it. B&B used to play at 8 pm and mom being mom insisted we ate at the table at 8! bah.

I continued mixing and set the stove on fire.

After 30 minutes on slow roast, this is what I had for lunch.

dibba rotte!

dibba rotte!

No, this isn’t a German dish proclaiming eating this ‘rotte‘ would make you exclaim “mein Gott” but instead it is a classic Andhra dish. It’s called Minaparotte. Or how we’d call it at home. Dibba rotte.

There’s a subtle flaw in it, that only detail-oriented folks/chefs can get. Give up? I made minapa rotte (urad daal fat crepe) with ravva idli mix.

Someone asked for visuals right? So there. Now I shall go pamper my tired feet with a long overdue pedicure.

ps: I am loving my iPhone. Totally. You have got to love something that allows me to take pictures so easy and flawless!
pps: I sure can ramble now can’t I? Stared with legos and end with rotte’s.
ppps: The dish wasn’t as tasty as the original, but that’s what happens if you use buttermilk to make a nice big glass of “milk shake”.

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14 thoughts on “cop-out

  1. dibba rotte… hmmm…haven’t had that… actually haven’t heard of it! :(
    So, does this mean you’ll be makin another post about what you ended up missing at the show? ;)
    Here’s warm wishes for a better knee!! Hope it gets better! :)

    Cheers

    PS: iPhone totally rocks! :)

  2. Laughing at “The dish wasn’t as tasty as the original, but that’s what happens if you use buttermilk to make a nice big glass of “milk shake””

    legos and robots? Oh my, you an engineer?

  3. sajni: Lord no! I am so not an engineer, just a hyperactive mom. :))

    whencut: hehe, it’s a very old dish. Doubt anyone does it anymore.
    lol@post. I just might. Am on a roll these days, why getting hard for you to keep up wth the frequency eh? :p
    Thanks!

    Adithya: hmm.. so what now? No more food posts? eh? :(

  4. So all the long talk about kids and the husband boils, sorry, fries down to the ‘Dibba rotte’! And you sent your husband as a substitute, so u can sit home and eat as u pet your nails? Sly! Should I expect to put up with such ruses if I get married? O Mein Gott!!

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