I haven’t been around much this week. It’s our school’s book fair, and of the thirty total hours we need volunteers (geeky me, yes I calculated it at about 5am this morning), I’m there for fourteen of them. Plus Little Miss had a parent/child activity at school. And Mister Man has his language group. And I had a President’s Council meeting today for two plus hours, for which I also provided lunch for twenty-five. Why does everything always happen in the same week?
Shockingly, that isn’t the point of the post, as everyone is busy – this isn’t exactly earth shattering news. However, because I haven’t been home and my husband has been gone because he has conferences at his school, my mom graciously agreed to watch the wee ones after school today and tomorrow, including feeding them dinner and putting them to bed.
I happened to have an hour free between the presidents’ council and my shift at the book fair, so I headed home to do some quick cleaning of my disaster of a kitchen (try making four loaves of bread, Irish soda bread, baked potato soup and homemade dressing for a salad in about three hours and see what your kitchen looks like at the end of it!).
As I was putting away some things in the fridge, I noticed that my mom brought dinner for the wee ones. Because apparently she didn’t trust me to have food for them. Yep, me who loves to cook and bake has no food in the house for the wee ones to eat. My mother, who I’ve mentioned previously does not like food and never really cooked when I was growing up, instead made and brought dinner.
This is what I discovered:
I’m pretty sure that I’d mentioned at some point that my mom used to make up a pound of spaghetti and leave it in a Ziploc bag for us to eat when we got hungry. Yep, the tradition is carried on. I wasn’t joking when I said my mom did that.
Although I will admit that we didn’t get the extra protein from the turkey bacon that she included for the wee ones. This gets placed on a paper towel and stuck in the microwave to cook.
I was mildly jealous that they got that extra treat. Then I noticed something. My mom always made spaghetti for us. The wee ones get special shaped pasta with cool textures. Yep, they’re definitely getting spoiled.