We have come to the conclusion that the opinions of inner city kids cannot guide our decisions in three specific areas.
Most of the kids think our house is "plain". Can't argue much here but stay with me.
Most of the kids think I dress "plain". Now this I will dispute. I love me some fashion and could spend an inordinate amount of time on this topic. I'll save that for another post.
Last night I stepped out and fried wings. The boys living with us love wings and I found a great recipe at my good friend Pioneer Woman's cooking site. She's not a good friend, I'm just a stalker. In the interest of humility, I will say they were awesome!!! We LOVE wings in this house but I had never made them and these were delicious. Delicious. Spicy and yummy and I woke up this morning with a fat hangover.
Everyone ate to their hearts content and we went through a roll of paper towels. My house smells like grease but it was worth it. Worth it until I made a fatal error in judgment and asked D and Darius what they thought about my wings. WHY? WHY did I ask? I'll tell you why. I wanted the praise of men. I wanted them to tell me that my wings were 'the best they'd ever had and could I please cook them again really, really soon'. Instead, the Lord humbled me with this answer...
"They were good. Not as good as Jan's, but pretty good."
Don't bother looking in your Zagat Guide for "Best Wings in Dallas" hoping to find Jan's with five stars next to it.
This is Jan's...
...and apparently, her wings are better than mine.