A Story About A Slister

Ok, so I have to tell a story on my slister. It is really too, too funny not to share. Hope she forgives me for posting it. :) And yes, that says Slister...inside joke. :)

My sis got married in June. She has been experimenting with cooking and really becoming great at it. She had very little experience beforehand, much to my mother's great angst, because she was so very busy in high school. She has really impressed us all with the things that she's tried and succeeded at making as a very green cook (which, when used here does not mean eco-friendly, but rather, novice).

So, at my birthday party, she was telling us a story about some chicken she made. David was helping her. It was a honey-orange chicken w/ white wine and golden raisins. I thought that it sounded gross, so I wasn't surprised for them to talk about how the sauce was kind of gross, but they thought that it would be alright once it was on the chicken. They started eating and both kind of choked it down, not wanting to waste money. They said that the chicken itself was awesome and really, really moist. Having had enough of the foul-tasting sauce, David decided that he couldn't stomach any more. When Dani was all done, he made her rinse her mouth out and said, "Now, I'm going to tell you what this tastes like...vomit." She said that she took a tiny little taste and realized that he was absolutely right...that was why it tasted so bad...it tasted like vomit.

Here was my question: WHY DID YOU EAT IT?!?!?!? Ew. I would not force myself to eat something that tasted like vomit. Anyway, we all had a good laugh, but the punchline was yet to come.

Fastforward from that night to a week or so later. Dani came over when David was working to hang out with Mark and I...scratch that...me. She went to get a drink from the refrigerator.

Dani: "Why is this in the fridge?" I looked up and she was holding a box of chicken broth that was about half gone.
Me: "Because it's been opened."
Dani: "Oh no...I've just kept mine in the pantry...it needs to be refrigerated?"
Me: "YES!!!!!!! It will go rotten!"
Dani: "OH MY!" 5 minutes later: "There was chicken broth in the vomit chicken sauce!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Me: "Are you serious? How long had it been in your pantry?!?"
Dani: "Only 3 or 4 weeks..."
Me: "THREE OR FOUR WEEKS?!?!? DANI! It is only good in the fridge for about 14 days! In the pantry for 3 or 4 WEEKS?!? You could have DIED! How did you not get SICK?!?" Followed by other exclamations on both of our parts.

By this point, I was almost on the floor laughing. I was dying because they ate rotten chicken broth and neither of them thought to themselves, "If this tastes like vomit, perhaps I shouldn't eat it..."

She brought over cheesecake brownies that night, as well. After a loooong conversation about what to refrigerate vs. what can go in the pantry, I asked if she had been keeping the cheesecake in the fridge. Nope. She hadn't. I said, "If you're unsure...REFRIGERATE...ANYTHING!"

Alright. I got that out of my system. It is probably a much better story in person, but I just had to get it out. Too, too funny! Thank you, Lord, for not letting them get awful sick.

Thank you, Dani, for many great stories to share! :)