Bitchin' in the Kitchen

I'm teaching my oldest daughter to cook some of their favorites. One of them is the masterpiece we're rendering today, my own Cheapass Barbecue. This is how it goes:
You buy the small cuts of pork left over from cutting butt and loin roasts (around here they call it "city chicken" and it sells for around 1.09 a pound) and brown it in a large skillet. In a jar, you mix half a bottle of ketchup, about half a cup of honey or corn syrup, to taste chili powder, pepper, garlic powder, fresh ground onion (get all the juice!), molasses, brown sugar, white sugar, a tablespoon or so of french dressing, a tablespoon or so of soy sauce, and a cup or so of salsa. Mix it all up and viola, you got barbecue sauce faster than you can say stone broke trailer trash. (But we live in a real house!!! just so we're clear)
My daughters will inevitably break something. I don't know what. This morning it was a beautiful hand-blown glass thermometer, the kind with  the little glass balls full of colored water inside? I think I have a picture -- anyway, she was wiping off the shelf and oops! there it goes. Naturally, we're too poor to have bought something like that on our own -- it was a gift -- so we won't have anything nearly as nice to replace it with. (okay, I might get lucky at a yard sale, around here you never know what you'll find.) Okay, enough with the boo-hoo for me parade.
The girls are in the kitchen banging pots around, which is my signal. I better go before they bust that really nice Braun mixer our Aunt gave us.