Remember when we were younger and our mothers would say, “Don’t use my good scissors,”? Well, I finally get it. I think it’s safe to say we have roughly five pair of scissors in this house – two devoted to material cutting. Yet, when Hannah decided to make herself a new fleece blanket the other day, what does she use? That’s right. She got out my kitchen shears – the pair you can use to debone a chicken or skin a deer (okay – I could be exaggerating, here). Hoping I’d caught her in time (and saved the shears), I offered her a pair of the material-cutting scissors. Next thing I knew, she’d gone back to using my “best” scissors. Turns out, she’d used the material cutters on some plastic packages, rendering them too dull to cut butter. I couldn’t believe I was coming unglued over a pair of scissors. And for perhaps the first time in my adult life, I was fully and painfully aware of why Mom always got so bent out of shape over something so seemingly insignificant. But Mom was right.

Oh, Liz, over the years we have had the same problem at our house, but I finally decided this was not a battle I was ever going to win. Long ago I gave up the notion of being able to have different scissors for different uses. I used to have fabric scissors, kitchen sheers, little tiny pointy tipped ones, ones with rounded tips, and of course, regular ordinary scissors. On a really good day, I’m happy to just be able to find ANY pair of scissors. On a bad day, I’ve been known to open packages with knives, cut strings with nail clippers and cut paper by using the old fold, lick, fold the other direction and tear method.

I’ll tell you something else she was right about – the need to use facial moisturizers before you notice the need for facial moisturizers. I can’t help but wonder how many fine lines and wrinkles would still be held at bay, had I listened to her in my late teens and early 20s (or early 30s, for that matter).

I hear you. I’m certain I’d have fewer wrinkles had I only listened. Of my own five girls (aged 26 – 14), three of them moisturize daily, probably in hopes of showing the other two up in a decade or two. So, did your mother ever tell you to fold your socks into pairs before they got tossed in the dirty clothes hamper? Wow, that seemed really like a hard, unnecessary and ridiculous thing to do back then.  Now I realize it was an attempt to NOT lose socks, not just a way to torture me. We have huge lost sock issues in this house, so much so that I look forward to flip flop weather just so I don’t have to find pairs of socks.

Oh, the dreaded lost sock conundrum! While I don’t remember folding them into pairs before tossing into the hamper, I have vivid recollections of disappearing socks. While I’ve never actually seen the sock gremlin, I can assure you that the sock gremlin exists. Personally I think he comes pre-packaged in every washer and dryer that’s ever been on the market. My personal belief is that he originates in the washer, and looks sort of like one of those little square magic washcloths that you add water to. Looks like a hard square, expands into a soft towel with a little water – you know what I’m talking about. Anywho, after he’s brought to life with that first load, he attaches himself on the clothes as they’re tossed in the dryer, thus moving to his permanent home. From there, he carefully selects just the right sock to devour. and if you think he doesn’t know what you’re favorite socks are, you’re wrong. Think about it – how many times do you sort through freshly laundered socks and say, “Darn, I’m missing the match to my least favorite pair of socks.” It just doesn’t happen. Come to think of it, maybe the wrinkles are caused by the loss of a favorite sock, or a pair of scissors rendered useless by my darlin’ little crumb-crunchers. Maybe it’s not the moisturizer that prevents them, but the stress that inflicts them. But what do I know…

Kate, I’m falling apart. My counter top ice maker is not making those cute little ice pellets. You know how we count on these ice-makers. They are perhaps the best technological advance in the history of the world!!! And I’m in four-alarm panic! No ice for the Diet Coke! No ice for the summer margaritas. No ice for the shrimp cocktails… NO ICE!! We’re at Defcon 4.5, here, Kate.

Calm down, Liz, you’re getting a little overly dramatic here. I’m sure that by the time you’re ready for summer margaritas, your ice maker will once again be churning out those precious pellets of deliciousness. Shrimp cocktails? You eat shrimp cocktails?  Even after “The Incident”? You know, that time when I went on vacation with your family when we were kids and you and I oh so innocently ordered fish for dinner, which was then served to us WITH THE FISH HEADS STILL ON THE FISH!?!  And your dad thought it was SOOOO  funny. Really, you can still eat seafood?  Wait a minute, what were we talking about? Oh yeah, ice. I confess that I am completely addicted to my counter top ice maker, as well. It’s my most prized possession. If I could, I’d marry it.

And you dare to say I’m over-reacting… Please… Let’s put this in perspective, here, Kate. I’ve been out of ice for almost 24 hours, now. Here’s how bad it is. I actually broke down and bought a set of ice trays. Are you starting to see how serious a matter this really is?!? I’d also like to point out another fact: You have ice. Go ahead, Check your counter top ice maker – the one that happens to be the twin to mine. Now envision it full of water, full of sounds, devoid of ice. But here’s the thing. I don’t know what has caused this catastrophe. I’ve cleaned the fan and cleaned the back. I’ve turned it off, then turned it back on. I’ve read the instruction manual, which keeps prodding me to call a qualified technician. Which brings me full circle to our fish with heads. What an experience that was. Of course Dad found it funny. Nothing like shocking the system of a couple of “tween-age” girls, huh? Anywho, Dad is as close as it gets to qualified professional, as far as I’m concerned. So maybe I’ll put a call in to him. How much different can it be from performing surgery? Plus, the ice machine won’t need general anesthesia! He did fix a coffee maker for me once. And to this day, the coffee pot works like a charm… Wait a minute. That was the coffee pot prior to the present one. The one he “fixed” suddenly lost its capacity to “pour a cup”, and I was no longer able to program it to brew coffee while I slept. Why do I suddenly feel this whole ice-making saga may end badly?!?!

I am going to try to break it to you as gently as possible, Liz, but I am on ice maker number 2. The first one froze it’s last ice pellet about a year after I got it (which is about how long you’ve had yours, n’est ce pas?). I tried all of the same tricks you’ve tried, but still couldn’t get it to work. I, too, resorted to a complete act of desperation and bought ice trays. Let me tell you, no one should have to live like that, all the re-filling of trays, the sloshing out of half the water on the kitchen floor, the bending and twisting of trays to get that last stubborn piece of ice, and the horror of discovering one of the kids has left the trays empty. My husband could see that I was not handling my ice maker withdrawals well, and brought home ice maker #2, which we’ve had for about a year and a half. It started having fits a few months back, but cleaning out the fan did the trick. I think these things are supposed to last longer than this. My parents are responsible ice maker owners and theirs will probably last for at least another decade or two. They only run it about every other day and save up the extra ice and put it in bags in their freezer. I don’t know about you, but I run mine 24/7/365 to feed my ice habit. I’ve got my fingers crossed for your ice maker. All I can say is thank goodness your dad makes house calls.

In retrospect, I guess there’s a lot to be said for responsible ice-maker ownership. But, alas, hindsight, as they say, is 20/20. Not to mention the fact that I have nowhere to store up a bunch of ice. Nor do I want to dig it out of the freezer and go through that hassle, which is not that far removed from the drudgery of twisting those stupid plastic trays… Now for the upshot: over the last 12-18 hours, there’s been a little action out of the ice maker. Not enough to supply my daily ice needs, mind you. but enough to put off that request for service – if only momentarily. No matter that the ice cubes look more like space alien heads…  Maybe my ice maker just had a little cold? Maybe it’s allergic to extremely cold temperatures and fears its own ice would be susceptible to frost bite? Or maybe it’s just teasing me, throwing out one final “I made ice” hoorah. Although I’ve spent the last couple of  days bordering on despondency, at least I feel like I have some answers now. Even if that answer means purchasing a new counter top ice maker… and falling in love with it all over again

So Liz, without googling, can you tell me what two teams are playing in the Super Bowl this year, or perhaps maybe when the big game is?

Dear, sweet, innocent Kate… You know my favorite sport is HOCKEY!! But yes, I do know who’s playing in the big bowl game thank you very much. Well, I know one team – the Steelers, right? (That is right, isn’t it? Tell me I’m right about at least one team…) That’s neither here nor there, though. The big question is this: What songs will the Black-Eyed Peas be including in their half-time show. I mean, c’mon! That’s what everyone really wants to know. Will they lead with “Time of My Life”? Or will they end with  that song? Let’s face it – that’s the most pressing question where this weekend is concerned, n’est pas?

Look at you, whipping out that French. Ms. Wyles would be proud. I should have figured you’d know more about the halftime entertainment than the actual game itself. I’ll admit, I AM impressed with the fact that you know that the game is this weekend, and that you know half of the teams. (FYI, the other team is Green Bay.) I think the more pressing question about the halftime entertainment is whether or not Fergie will pull a “Janet Jackson” on us. It’s been all male groups since that dreadful day. Were you watching? We were. It lead to a a rather awkward discussion with my then 4 year old son.

I realize this is pretty pathetic, but I really don’t remember if I watched, or just can’t get it out of my head because the media showed the um, faux pas, over and over and over. Who could not know, or not think they were actually watching after all the hype. Before I digress, though I would like to think that Fergie will not pull a Janet Jackson. Because my now-9-year-old will likely be watching with me. Frankly it’s a conversation I don’t want to have. Surely, Fergie is beyond such attention-getter tactics. But then again… So, how did you explain the baring broohaha to a 4-year-old? Perhaps more important, how will you explain it to him if it happens on Sunday?

Well, it’s all kind of a blur. It’s called selective memory, a survival technique I highly recommend. I seem to recall tip-toeing around the topic without actually using, you know, words which could be shocking to a 4 year old boy. It didn’t matter how careful and gentle I was, though, my explanation couldn’t be heard over the shouts from my 20ish year old daughters that were something along the lines of, “OMG…is she wearing a nipple ring?!” Yep, fun times. This year I’ll think I’ll just send him out to doorbell ditch some elderly neighbors during half time. JUST KIDDING! I’ll tell him to stick to neighbors under 60 this time. Anyway, since we’ve never watched a Super Bowl together, I was just wondering, do you use the big game as an excuse to…um, pig out?

Before we talk about pigging out, I think you need to explain yourself re: doorbell ditching. Unbelievable, Kate. Unbelievable. Anywho, I usually plan lots of cool appetizers, plenty of ice cold beer, etc, etc, etc. But I usually end up opening a can of pickles or something equally as unfulfilling. OK, that may not be the truth. Usually, I end up fixing way too much queso. And as you know, just getting that fixed is its own reward where I’m concerned. While I realize tonight isn’t Super Bowl night, I am trying out a game-day recipe from Giada – Adobo Chicken, Scallion and Mozzarella Cornbread and Blue Cheese and Walnut Grapes. (Really, I’m just doing the chicken. God forbid I hit overload…) so I’ll let you know how that goes. What are you fixing? And if you don’t mind, will you call me when it’s half-time Sunday, just in case I forget??

What?! You’re cooking something other than a frozen dinner? Hold on a second, I have to pick myself up off the floor Hmmm…doorbell ditching. Well, there’s a group of boys around here that think it’s funny to doorbell ditch the neighbors. Fortunately, as far as I know, my son is not one of them. He values his life too much. As far as Super Bowl food goes, we basically just use the game to stuff ourselves for 4 hours. We’ll be watching the game at my parents with my brothers and their families, and we’re all adding to the junk food feast. I’ll be bringing Chicken Nachos Grande , Cowboy Salsa and chips,  and 4 kinds of gourmet cupcakes. We’re on a cupcake kick here lately thanks to Cupcake Wars on the Food Network. Here’s the recipe for one of them, Churro Cupcakes. You’ll have to wait for the rest. Don’t want to overload you , or anything.

Adobo update: It was pretty good, but now I’ll have to come up with something else for Sunday Heaven forbid we have the same thing for dinner twice in one week. As far as cooking goes, I’d prefer you did all the cooking and shipped it to me. Maybe you could start with a batch of the Churro Cupcakes? Until then, time to get ready for the big game! Let’s meet back up Monday to have our own game day replay!

Not gonna happen, Liz. I can barely keep my own family fed. I come up with ideas, I give you recipes, and now you want me to cook it and ship it to you too?  Maybe you’d like me to hire someone to serve it to you and clean up the dishes afterwards, as well? Geez.  Btw, I think I’m going to make some sliders for the game feast (you know, those little bitty cute hamburgers). I saw some of those tiny buns in the store the other day. Doesn’t that sound yummy? Ok, well have a great game day. I’ll text you at halftime, just cause I’m nice like that.