Satan is cookin' up trouble in the kitchen

I interrupt your regularly scheduled programming
(i.e. the last chapter of my road trip with phenomenal parade photos)
to bring you this important message.....
I MUST STOP FEEDING THE MISSIONARIES!

I am an average cook.
Not an amazing cook like my mother,
not a horrible cook like......
(cmon....like I would say someone is a bad cook......)
I am an OK cook. medium.
good enough for you to enjoy a meal but nothing to alert the media.
Unless a missionary is invited into my home.
That is when all  H.... E....double hockey sticks breaks loose.
I have heard that missionaries should stay out of the water.
I don't know the actual doctrinal reasons behind it but I have been told it is because
Satan has power there.
I think that in his spare time and after he towels off he comes to my kitchen
but only when I prepare a meal for our missionaries.
I have overcooked, undercooked and plain badly cooked many a meal for them.
Things just don't work right when they are invited over.
In our church the members take turns feeding these fine young men
at least one meal a day.
I am on the calendar for the fifth Tuesday and the fifth Thursday in the month if they should happen to occur.
It was the last spot available.
Obviously word of my cooking has gotten around.
One time I even burned pasta.
Plain boiling spaghetti.
Two ingredients....noodles AND water!!!
Burnt and stuck to the bottom of my pan like super glue.
Cakes have been known to actually split down the middle like a mini Grand Canyon after an earthquake.
Brownies like hockey pucks.
One time I even served lemonade to a returning missionary who had brought his sister along with him to visit families in the ward.
They sipped very daintily and slowly on their beverage.
I think the words "strong but good" were even said.
After they left I tasted it and remained in a pucker for hours after.
I had added half the water that I was suppose to.
I may not be a gourmet chef but come on........
I am not stupid.
I can read directions.
But something happens when these sweet servants of the Restored Gospel walk through my door.
Tonight was no exception.
It started with the rolls that looked a little anemic in color.
They were cooked too much on top and yet retained a wet doughy like consistency on the bottom.
YUM!
The tomatoes on the salad were hard as rocks.
The cucumber a little bitter
but the piece de resistance HAD to be the chicken.
It was a dish I have made a million times. It is fool proof. It has 5 layers....
Boneless skinless chicken breasts
Slices of swiss cheese
A can of cream of chicken soup thinned with milk
A bag of Pepperidge Farm Herb stuffing
A stick of butter melted and drizzled on top.
Cook in a 375 degree oven for an hour and
VIOLA!
unless you are eating at my house and your name has Elder at the front of it.
I pulled it out and the top layer of stuffing looked way too brown,
verging on burnt.
I was worried about the chicken and so I took a piece from the edge and cut into it.
It seemed perfect.
I scraped off the browner pieces of stuffing and brought it to the table.
All was well until in the middle of my interviewing our newest Elder who only came into the mission field two weeks ago, Mr T. turned to his companion and said,
"Is your chicken raw in the middle???
Because that looks pretty pink to me."
The rest of the evening is pretty much a blur from there.
I am going to go to bed and ponder whether or not I can or should retain my spot on the missionary calendar
with out at the very least an exorcism in my kitchen.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled programming......

P.S. In my defense my son was served pig snout stew in Guatemala. I would never undercook that.