Cottagers’ kitchens are NOT to be messed with

         So, yesterday some family friends came over to our cottage, because it was their last night at the cottage that they were renting on our lake. My mom took us waterskiing and tubing and cliff jumping. (Tip: Don’t let your feet move around on any under water rocks if your actually climbing a cliff. I now have a lovely gash on the bottom of my foot because I made that mistake.) The cliff diving I did very poorly and I now can’t yawn without stabbing pain going through my ribs. Not to worry if you’re about to go yourself, it’s the first time anything like this has happened, over the four years that I have been going. When we came back, the adults had wine and cheese and a little later on Champaign, while us kids were sentenced to the kitchen to make our dinner.

         I should mention that I have cooked with the girl who came over many times, most of which ended in me having to walk away. But anyway, we were making tomato sauce and garlic bread to have with tortellini and long story short: it sucked. The pasta was overcooked, the sauce was flavorless, and she didn’t have enough patience to wait for the garlic bread to actually toast.

           Ta-DA how my night ended in perpetual annoyance.

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