Last Friday Night

While it was no big affair (nor was there any dancing on table tops), Michael and I finally got to sit down together and watch a movie.  It seems silly, but with all the crazy additions to our schedules and lists of responsibilities lately we hadn't had a chance to do that in quite a while.

So we put on pajamas promptly at 6:30 and popped in a favorite, the Help.

This is one of the few movies I could literally put on at any time--or multiple times--and watch contentedly. It's a classic--or will be one day, I just know it.

But how can we watch a movie without snacks? So as we watched Minnie teach Ms. Celia not to burn fried chicken for the umpteenth time, we decided to give it a try. The old fashioned way of course (read: a paper bag and Crisco were, in fact, involved).

So we whipped out the chicken and flour, tossed them in the paper bag, and fried them up on the stove.

Honestly, we both felt pretty sick afterward and while it was fun, maybe not worth a repeat. At least, not for a while. Next time I'll just stick with corn bread.