Epic Fail

This past Sunday will go down in history as one of my worst days in fulfilling my role as a wife. Feel free to laugh at me:

My husband has a gluten intolerance so this puts some limits on what we eat. For those of you who don't know, gluten is pretty much the same thing as flour. So anything with flour is a no-no: pasta, bread, biscuits, pancakes, doughnuts, chicken nuggets, fried okra... the list goes on and on.

Unfortunately, my husband's favorite food is fried okra. Fortunately, five months ago, I discovered how to make fried okra using gluten free Bisquik. (GF Bisquik is a God-send.) If I remember correctly, I think Steven may have cried tears of joy the night I first made it, that's how happy he was.

Fried okra was on the menu this Sunday night and Steven had been looking forward to it all week... if not all month. Everything was going as planned: the okra was frying, the pork chops were sizzling, and the carrots were steaming.

Something smelled strange. It smelled sweet. But I wasn't cooking anything sweet. I shrugged it off. The frying, sizzling, and steaming continued.

But the smell didn't go away. The second batch of okra had just begun to dive into the grease when it hit me... I'd used cake mix instead of Bisquik. CRAP!!!!!!!

Doesn't that sound great- okra wrapped in fried cake batter?! Uck.

I tried to deliver the news gently, but there was no way to avoid his disappointment.

Cake batter okra. Epic Fail.

Unfortunately the story doesn't end there. I had half a bowl of battered up uncooked okra. I put it down the disposal, along with my pride. Soon after, the sink started clogging- I had a feeling it wasn't my pride that was getting in the way. Steven plunged and snaked and plunged and snaked. Three hours later it was midnight and the sink was still clogged. That okra was his arch nemesis.

The plumber came the next morning and all was well in the world again.

And for those who are wondering, I tried the okra. It was weird. I tried to heavily salt it. It was still weird.