Mac' and Porridge

Never put Priests in charge of cooking.

They said they could manage mac and cheese, we figured they were better off not scaring the little children we were mass babysitting, so we left them to cook it.

No. Bad idea.

They made twelve boxes of mac and cheese. Twelve boxes in one small pot.

And they didn't boil the water first, they just poured the noodles in along with the water and went on their merry way. We went in to check on the dinner, and came back to the stickiest mass of noodles I've ever seen in my life.

Of course, everyone has different remedies for it. Eventually it was decided they would pour it out into the strainer and let it sit there while they boiled water in a bigger pot and then put them back in and cook them better. Hopefully they could be revived.

While in the strainer, Sis. Jeppson decided it needed to be stirred. Pretty soon, there noodles had the texture of oatmeal. I went around telling this to everyone, like I do everything entertaining, and they all had to go in, gawk at it, stir it a little, and soon it was even worse.

We were left with 'bread dough' noodles, wich I fondly dubbed Mac' and Porridge', and then Julie, who was extremely frustrated by that point, threw it away. Her dad went and got some new stuff and us girls cooked it up that time so it was fine.

But geez.

Big waste of twelve boxes of macaroni.