Ever walk into a room and think, maybe I shouldn’t be here.
Like maybe, you felt a little uncomfortable about something you saw?
Or maybe you were at the mall, Burger King or somewhere, and you saw two teenagers totally mugging down and you thought, Ugh. That has got to be gross. But you just kept looking because it was kinda fascinating in the most horrifying National Geographic type way?
So you stare because your eyeballs have been locked into a dead on glare, in which they can no longer move to the left nor the right until you figure out what in the world she is doing with her tongue.
That happened to me the other day.
There was no tongue action, thank goodness.
And no National Geographic strange mating rituals. But what I saw scared the wageezers outa me. But I just couldn’t look the other way. In fact, I grabbed my camera.
It all started with my crazy, bossy, lovely, sweet, baby Phoebe.
Exhibit A:
I noticed her keeping company with some fellas that have been hanging around our house since Christmas. They’re soldiers after all (Nutcrackers to be precise), so I guess she could keep worse company.
As the days went by, and I noticed that our friends hadn’t gone home yet (because I am too lazy to wrap them up and put them away for next Christmas) and I also realized that little Feebs was getting more and more comfortable with them.
A pat on the head here.
A side hug there.
“Oh that’s cute,” I thought, “She’s found someone to play with that’s her own size.”
But then, one day I walked into the room and saw this.
She was looking completely caught off guard. Standing so close with her hands resting on his shoulders. I looked to the floor, and saw a bit of incriminating evidence.
She had ripped his beard off.
And then that little toot, looked me straight in the eye, glaring and taunting me as if to say, “I love him and I don’t care what you think!”
She turned away from me.
Leaned over to her strapping wooden nutcracker and did this.
My jaw hit the floor. Is she really doing what I think she might be doing?
And then I said, all choked up, slightly frightened, and very confused. “Feebs, whatcha doing? What are you doing with the nutcracker?”
Then she made this face . . . . .
And kissed him again.
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I don’t know. Maybe she takes after me.
I mean, I would totally mug down with this Peach and Blueberry Crisp.
If you walked into the room while I was eating it, I would be all, “I don’t care what you think about the blueberries all over my shirt, and peaches in my hair because this Crisp is ~ Off the hook!”
And then, I would continue to shovel it into my large wide open mouth by the truckload.
Maybe I’ll make it for Phoebe’s wedding to Mr. Nutcracker up there.
It’ll be slightly unconventional, but then so is a baby marrying a toy soldier.
But don’t worry because the Crisp is completely heart healthy, with not much sugar, and loaded with two crazy nutrient rich fruits. So there’s that.
Peach and Blueberry Crumble
Ingredients:
3 cups frozen peaches, thawed
3 cups frozen blueberries, thawed
1/4 c. granulated sugar
2 teaspoons cornstarch
For the topping:
1/2 cup regular rolled oats
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup all purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 cup butter (I used smart balance)
1/3 cup chopped pecans
Directions:
1. Preheat oven to 375. Lightly spray a 2 quart baking dish with cooking spray.
2. In a medium bowl, stir together thawed peaches, blueberries, sugar and cornstarch. Pour into baking dish.
3. In a small bowl mix together oats, brown sugar, flour, and cinnamon. Cut in butter/margarine until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Add the nuts. Sprinkle over the fruit in the baking dish.
4. Bake for about 40 minutes or until fruit is tender and top is golden. For added crunch, once the crumble has cooked, place in the broiler for 3 to 4 minutes or until the topping begins to brown further. Let stand for 30 minutes to set and allow flavors to blend. Serve warm plain or with ice cream. Enjoy!!!!
