I just remembered my most recent booboo.
My husband just passed way 3 months ago. I didn't cook for almost a month. Bill wasn't real fond of chicken! He only like breast meat and he wanted it cooked like his mom made. He discribed it as dry. OK so I never did learn how to make it dry enough for him. Think that was a good thing in my favor though.
Anyway I had chicken in the freezer. That evening I decided to fry it up. We had just moved to this house 2 months before he died and I had been fighting a bug problem. This was just a place to be while we were buying a house. I have always kept stuff in ziplocks, just because and it was neccessary here.
Tossed flour and spices into a ziplock and started frying it up, smelled pretty good, but wasn't getting crisp. I sprinkled more flour over it and it just kind of dissolved. I'm at a lose as to what the heck is going on, then it hit me. Stuck my finger in the original bag and it was powdered suger. I grabbed the flour and thought I'd redp and try to save it.
I was so sick of pizza, but that's what we ended up having anyway. Bill was probably looking down at me and cracking up. I looked up towards him (cause I know that's where he is) and said "OK Honey, ya got me!" LOL
My daughter's had a good one with this when I told them.