Tonight, the pendulum swings the other way. I'm going to be the perfect freaking housewife.
This Friday evening I'll roast a chicken (in my Flirty Aprons getup, no less), drink craft beer and watch NCAA basketball on television.
I'll painstakingly chop some small, red potatoes, zucchini and Vidalia onion and remove the tops of six heads of garlic - the perfect blanket upon which my greased up chicken will lay as it bakes in my 400 degree sunshine.
Beneath the layer of supple chicken skin, I'll lather a coating of real butter, sea salt, freshly ground black pepper and other seasonings perfect for my poultry plaything. Breast side down, I'll tie up the chicken's legs after stuffing it with lemon wedges, sage, and half an onion.
As my stilettos click-clack on the hardwood, I'll slide the roasting pan in the oven, fling open the fridge and crack open a Magic Hat.
A sweet, sudsy reward for a well prepared meal.
And then I'll direct my undivided attention to the boob tube and five men dressed in blue. Kentucky Basketball. Unadulterated adrenaline in action in a match up that could only be penned by Dickie V. Ohio and Kentucky. Border states. Brother vs. Brother.
It's like the Civil War all over again, except this time each side is fighting for another night in Newark.
I can't remember the last time I longed to go to Jersey.
Friday night doesn't always have to be Out on the Town. Sometimes my favorite hot spot is the one that's at home.
Kate's Random Musings by Kate the Great is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
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