The last few months, I’ve been working hard to get my YA novel, Screwing Up Babylon, ready to be published. And normally, I plan out my responsibilities pretty well so there’s no disruption to my family.
Last night was an exception. I’d planned on baked herbed chicken thighs for dinner. I was going to rub a combination of lemon-pepper, garlic, and fresh rosemary on the chicken.
But I was a little late getting the chicken out of the freezer. Normally, I take it out first thing in the morning. Instead, I took in out right before Matt’s piano lessons—about five hours too late. Then, I didn’t have time to defrost in the microwave because I ended up getting home late from lessons—the van stalled while I was making a left turn and I was without power steering or brakes (very scary).
Anyway, when I got home and went to put the thighs in the oven, they weren’t quite defrosted enough to properly rub. So I cranked the oven, put the chicken in, and made plans to rub the chicken after it had been in for twenty minutes.
In the meantime, I’d edit. My editing was going really well. Then college student number two asked me when dinner was going to be ready. I said, “Five o-clock.” She said, “Uh, it’s after five now.”
So we ate. Everyone sat down, and I served the thighs. Finally, someone said, “So what kind of chicken is this?”
I said, “Naked Chicken.”
Child: “What does that mean?”
Me: “It means I was busy editing and forgot to season the chicken.”
Child: “Um, we’ve never had plain chicken before.”
Me, taking BBQ sauce and sweet and sour sauce from the fridge: “Now you have.”
Child, taking a bite: “This isn’t so bad.”
Then my youngest child began squirting different condiments on his plate and said, “This is customizable chicken!”
Yep, that’s it. Customizable Chicken. Think about the marketing opportunities!