Potato Salad Overload

I heart church lunches.  Especially when it means no Sunday evening services and my man and I get to have date night.  I don't know whose idea this new arrangement was, but I love them.  And it's even better when there's something special to go with it....like Resurrection Sunday!

Burgers are on the menu for tomorrow and Misty told me to bring dessert.

Dessert.

Me?  Because that ain't really my thing, dessert.  And I'd much rather bring something more interesting.  Besides if I make a dessert then maybe Ms. Marianne won't bring pecan pie.  And that would just be a shame ya'll.

So she said I could bring potato salad instead.
Now we're talking.

I adore potato salad.  And so do my kids.

The girls and I worked together peeling lots of potatoes and chopping everything else.  I have never made potato salad on such a large scale before and I had 2 of my biggest pots overloaded.

Of course that's when my second favorite burner decided to take a vacation and I had to cook it in batches on my most favorite burner because the other 2 are too small. (My second favorite burner just became the unfaithful cursed burner.)

When the potatoes were done and it was time to mix it up, I hit another snag.  Both pots were full of potatoes and that left no room for mixing and I didn't have anything bigger.

I'm starting to think this wasn't such a good idea.  And I'm also starting to think......what if nobody really likes my potato salad anyway?  I used to think everybody loved potato salad.  But it turns out that Nana doesn't like it at all.  It's probably not her fault though because she's not southern and she doesn't understand potato salad like the rest of us.  But if Nana doesn't like this potato salad, maybe other people won't either.  Ya think?

But my kids were like, "Good.  That means we'll bring it all home and we can eat it for a long time."
Hey, this parenting gig is paying off!!  My kids are smart.

Anyhow, Lane and I started mixing it up in different batches working our way through every dish in the kitchen while my son comments that he's sure glad it's not his kitchen work day.
Mr. Smarty Pants then got himself sent to the store because I forgot the sweet pickles and had to put a hold on the entire production until he got them.

Now I also learned that working in batches means you can't mix everything together to make sure you have all the ingredients and seasonings just right.  So you kinda have to wing it when it comes to the end result.  Whose idea was this?

I've never been so glad to be done in the kitchen in all my life.
Finally we were finished.  And I was glad it wasn't my kitchen work day either.

Note to self: next time Misty tells you to bring a dessert, don't whine.  Bake a cake.
And call it a day.