Dead Housekeeping

First, get your mind right. Fool. We aren’t trying to hear that.

For whiners, complainers, man-babies, actual babies.

When shocked by bratty behavior, narrow your eyes and in your most disgusted voice - the one you have to reach to your toes for because what is sarcasm without the odor of feet and fungal decay - say, out loud, “What do you want? A sugar tit?”

Oh, DAMN. No, they didn’t.

via GIPHY

But, wait. What is a sugar tit? Really? What is it?

It’s what you give babies who are crying when you can’t give them yourself. It’s a homemade pacifier made from sugar and bits. Make one like this*:

Take a piece of cloth - cotton, clean. Bandana, hankie, scrap of sack cloth. An apron will do in a pinch.

Lay it on the table.

In a small bowl, make a paste of honey, white sugar, and bourbon. Never give your infant moonshine. What are you anyway?

Place the mixture in the center of the cloth. Draw the sides together using the cloth to consolidate the mixture into a ball. Tie in a knot above the glob or secure it with string, twine or a rubber band. Apply to infant.

*Do not confuse this with actual advice. Think of it as dodgy field medicine. No honey for infant under one year. And don’t give your babies alcohol. No one deserves moonshine. Your infant least of all.

- Jennifer Cumby is a contributing editor here at Dead Housekeeping and is the senior Family Ties editor at Maximum Middle Age, which you should check out, here.

My mother wanted all for whom she baked to enjoy their fair share. She often adjusted her work to make sure.

Take her chocolate chip cookies. Surveying twenty-four blobs of raw dough on the last two cookie sheets, she redistributed chocolate chips and walnut pieces until she achieved fairness. Only then did the dough go into the oven.

When she baked a pan of bread pudding or a casserole of rice custard, she inspected the stirred, poured mixture for an equal distribution of raisins before entrusting the dish to the oven.

When Mom was visiting after the birth of my second child, she offered to make me a healthy bread pudding full of whole wheat bread, eggs, milk, grated apple, cinnamon, and, of course, raisins. While I nursed the baby in the kitchen, mom and I chatted quietly as she measured, mixed, and stirred. The longer my son nursed, the hungrier I became. At last, he fell asleep, and I was ravenous. But mom hadn’t even put the pan of bread pudding into the oven. Unconsciously, she had been placing one raisin at a time into the mixture as though planting equality in perfect rows.

- Andrea (Andi) M. Penner, President of the New Mexico State Poetry Society since 2015, arrived in New Mexico for doctoral work in 1994, and stayed to teach college English. She now works as a technical writer, editor, and program communications specialist, and writes creatively in the wee hours. Her first collection of poetry, When East Was North, was published in 2012 by Mercury Heartlink.

Marlene's Bread Pudding

Bread pudding is forgiving, not exact. Be sure to use dry bread so you don't create a mushy mess. If your bread is fresh, you can dry it first in a 300°F oven, or toast it slightly in a toaster.

3 cups dry bread cubes (about 4 or 5 slices of good whole grain bread)

4 eggs

2 cups milk

1/3 cup sugar (brown is nice)

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon (you could also use ground ginger)

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/2 c. raisins (or dried cranberries)

(optional: 1 grated tart apple, sprinkled with lemon juice so it doesn't turn brown)

Preheat oven to 325°F and lightly grease a small baking dish (8" x 8").

Beat together eggs, milk, sugar, cinnamon, and vanilla in a mixing bowl. Mix in the grated apple.

Place the dry bread pieces in the baking dish and sprinkle it evenly with raisins. Pour the egg mixture over all. Bake for 35-40 min, or longer if needed, until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean.

How to Make a Sugar Tit

Fair Share