Soup

"Okay. Looks like we've got..umm. Yeah, we've got our veggies. Umm...chicken. Chicken broth. Butter....That's basically everything we need, right?" Jami begins mentally visualizing the ingredients list for her Gnocchi soup. 

"Jami? What is...HOLY COW!" Before me sits a gallon of heavy cream. 

"Jami. Do we really need all this?" Holy smokes, that is a lot...A LOT... of cream.

"Well, yeah. We're feeding 12 people, most of them very hungry men, so I decided that I would just triple the recipe." I begin to nod my head in support, but in reality I wish I could say, "Good heavens, what are you thinking? Do you realize how many calories you will be pouring into that little soup pan? Do you realize you're potentially shortening the lifespan of ever young man you're feeding tonight?" But I instead just say, "Right, umm. Yeah, good call." 

Thirty minutes later, the soup is bubbling, making the sounds of an angry sea monster with an unsettled stomach (probably because the insane amount of calories that was in his dinner!). 

"Uhh. UHHHH, Jami?" I squeal in a nervous voice. The soup, still void of the noodles, chicken, and broth, looks like it's going to spill onto our stove top, like a slow, sluggish avalanche of cream-colored snow.

We're all a bunch of inexperienced college students, so we begin to scream.

Yep, we're still screaming.