Not sure when I became such an old curmudgeon.
But I'm not enjoying this thing called summer at all.
Now don't get me wrong, I love being able to sleep in later than 7AM and not have to drive the dynamic duo and Captain Quiet to school, but this kids not only being at home all day, every day, but having to feed them as well is getting old. Seriously, when did they start eating so much? Isn't one meal a day enough? Or maybe one meal and a snack? Do they really need to grow any bigger?
Feeding them lunch not only requires a large amount of time but it makes such a huge mess in the kitchen.
You know, the kitchen I just cleaned up the night before when they insisted they needed to eat dinner.
Today I've got not only my 3 but the twins here as well. So I used some of my finest culinary skills and produced a lovely spread that should satisfy even the pickiest customers.
Macaroni and cheese, fresh off the stove, leftover spaghetti (with homemade sauce) ham and cheese or peanut butter and grape jelly sandwiches that I would make because they aren't allowed to touch the knives for obvious reasons.
Really... what more could they ask for?
How about: Milk, green juice, cucumber salad, sauce without the yucky spongy mushroom-y pieces in it, strawberry jelly, pasta that isn't in that weird twirly shape, a different color cheese for the sandwich.
I would go on but you get the idea.
Once they realized that nothing else was forth coming, they settled down and ate the offerings without much more commentary and moved on.
Trying to keep a positive attitude and a clean kitchen I started loading the dishwasher and putting the food away.
I had just stuck the large plastic spoon in the bowl of mac and cheese when Katherine screamed at the top of lungs, scaring the absolute crap out of me and causing me to launch a spoonful of cheesy pasta into the air, onto the ceiling, into my face, hitting the front of the fridge and sliding, this way and that all the way to the floor leaving a yellow gooey cheesy trail in its wake.
I was caught in that moment when something unexpected happens and you can't do anything but stand there and stare. Katherine snapped me out of when she came bursting into the kitchen yelling something about a spider. She came to a screeching halt, mouth agape and eyes huge.
"Why did you throw macaroni and cheese onto the fridge?"
She looked up.
"And on the ceiling? And on your face?"
A muscle in my jaw flexed and for the life of me I could not think of single thing to say. Well other than a few things I could not include here.
She opened her mouth I assume to yell for her brother to come take a look, when I told her quietly,evenly that if she dared say one word I would require her to spend the rest of the day writing "I will remember to use my indoor voice and not scream and scare people to death" until it was time to go to bed.
Looking utterly perplexed, she turned and disappeared without another word.
I spent at least 15 minutes cleaning up that mess, then another 15 working through the dishes that had been left in the wake of lunchgate.
Now I've got 5 hours until the whole process starts all over again with dinner.
Frozen pizza is starting look like a reasonable and healthy choice.
And I will keep telling myself that until I almost believe it.
