Monk in the Kitchen

This happens to be Army drill weekend for my husband, so I decided to try to do something fun for dinner with the boys tonight. I say the boys because Boo kind of just goes along for the ride, so to speak, since she isn’t big enough yet to really care about these things. Anyway. We were given a cookbook for children last Christmas, and so far we have loved every recipe we’ve tried. Tonight we made crispy chicken bites, and I had intended to have the boys help me make them. For one thing, it’s good that they get some idea while growing up just what goes into cooking a simple meal – this is a good thing to know. Also, this cookbook was their Christmas present and the recipes are easy enough that they can help and even do most of the work once they are a little bit older.

I told the boys they could help cook the dinner. I thought that would be exciting for them. I was wrong. Tic Tac could have cared less, so I didn’t pester him – this was supposed to be fun after all. Monk was interested, so while I was cutting the chicken into nuggets, he looked over my shoulder and repeatedly expressed how grossed out he was by the raw chicken. I actually agree with him there – raw chicken is pretty gross. After he washed his hands, I let him help me roll the chicken in the bread crumbs. He did, for about 5 nuggets, talking all the while about how gross the chicken felt.

Then he decided he was done. Time to wash hands. Oh my. He washed them in the kitchen sink and then kept sticking them under my nose and saying, “Mom, do they smell like they’re clean? I’m not sure I got them clean enough. Raw chicken has salmonella, right?” I finally said, “If you washed them with soap, they’re clean, stop putting them under my nose, I don’t want to smell them.” He kind of hovered for a minute asking about salmonella and such. I think he’s the kind of kid you really have to watch what you say when he’s around. He remembers everything. Well, he remembers everything you wouldn’t want him to. Other stuff along the lines of, “J, please put the clothes in the laundry basket away,” or “J, stop kicking your brother,” or “J, don’t forget to practice the piano,” kind of go in one ear and out the other. Sigh. Anyway, apparently he’s heard about raw chicken and salmonella somewhere. And this he remembers. As I finished coating the chicken in bread crumbs, I heard the water in the bathroom running. And running. And running. A little while later he came out with a grin and said, “They must be clean now. I burned them the water was so hot.” I just smiled at him, thinking, “This is why his nickname is Monk.”

Then I finished up the chicken and washed my hands three times to get all the chicken yuck off them. He comes by it honestly. But, the boys both said this chicken recipe is a keeper. They loved it. Boo did, too.

Fun times.