I introduced my children to hummus today at dinner. I insisted on the first two bites but by then they decided that they all liked it and we ate quite a bit. I'm very glad I have children who'll eat what I ask them to and who keep an open mind when they eat new foods.
But let's talk about my kitten!
My kitten wishes to be with us, always and anywhere we are. She is, however, smart enough to stay away from the table during dinnertime. The truth, as she knows, is that during dinner she is in grave danger of being unintentionally trampled by a random water-run (traditionally, a full-out sprint to get a refill of water) or spontaneous acting-out of a scene. Our dinners, always family affairs filled with wildly gesturing children and loud stories and laughter, are... exuberant, to say the least.
The last few times we've had family dinner our kitten has been sitting in top of our Blu-ray player, just under our huge TV and next to our Wii, watching us.
"Look what our kitten is doing! She's so silly," I said to Cai tonight, serving him another spoonful of applesauce.
"She's doing what you do," he said, stuffing about 3x more food in his mouth than I would have suspected would fit. Seeing me eying him judgmentally, he mumbled "Shorry, mummrs," around his mouthful and endeavored to swallow as much as possible so as to clear the evidence of his transgression.
"Take your time, Cai - chew, then swallow," I said automatically, adding "What do you mean, 'doing what I do'?"
Cai was too busy trying to chew his mouthful of food; in his place, Syd piped up.
"The thing with the oven," she said, picking up a piece of bread and attempting to butter it with the not-quite-pliable stick of butter, biting her tongue in concentration.
"The thing...what? What thing?" I said to the table at large, knowing that Syd, while concentrating, would not easily be maneuvered back to my topic.
I saw two pairs of almost-identical hazel eyes look at me, unmoved by my confusion.
"The oven..." said Maddie placidly.
"...after you cook," finished Paris.
They both sat there unmoving, looking at me with their heads cocked and eyebrows raised in readiness for my comprehension. Which I didn't give them, because I didn't know what they were talking about.
Now two more pairs of almost-identical eyes, blue this time, looked at me with a growing level of humor at my confusion.
"You know, mommers..." started Syd,
"When you cook bread..." Cai added,
"...or enchiladas..." Syd pointed out helpfully,
"Oh yeah, or brownies too," Cai rejoindered,
"And corn-flake chicken!" Syd exclaimed happily.
"WHAT YOU DO IS..." Paris interjected, funneling the conversation back to the point.
"What you do, is after dinner you finish the dishes and then you put the dishrag on the oven door," Maddie continued the story,
"...and you stand there," said Paris,
"With the door open," said Syd, nodding,
"And your hands out," said Cai,
"Or your...backside," Maddie said, to some snickers,
"And you... stand." finished Paris.
"Stand," repeated Maddie.
"Yep. Right there," agreed Cai.
"Yep," Syd said, nodding.
And all of the sudden I could picture myself, the dishes finished, and me standing before a half-open over to warm my damp hands. As I move closer to the oven the heat washes over me and I feel all the unrealized half-cold places like ears and noses start to defrost. The heat is so wonderful and it's so cold in the winter and...
Oh yeah, I do do this!
And it's then I put it all together.
"Our kitten is sitting on the DVD player because it's warm there, isn't she?" I said.
"Yes!" said Cai, and then suddenly everyone was back to eating and the conversation turned to 'What 4 people you would kiss if you had to'.
So now you know what my kitten does during dinner and what I do after. Which story could have been considerably shorter but... well, this is just how we do things here. Everything relates to everything else and everyone's connected.
Even kittens and mommersez.
But let's talk about my kitten!
My kitten wishes to be with us, always and anywhere we are. She is, however, smart enough to stay away from the table during dinnertime. The truth, as she knows, is that during dinner she is in grave danger of being unintentionally trampled by a random water-run (traditionally, a full-out sprint to get a refill of water) or spontaneous acting-out of a scene. Our dinners, always family affairs filled with wildly gesturing children and loud stories and laughter, are... exuberant, to say the least.
The last few times we've had family dinner our kitten has been sitting in top of our Blu-ray player, just under our huge TV and next to our Wii, watching us.
"Look what our kitten is doing! She's so silly," I said to Cai tonight, serving him another spoonful of applesauce.
"She's doing what you do," he said, stuffing about 3x more food in his mouth than I would have suspected would fit. Seeing me eying him judgmentally, he mumbled "Shorry, mummrs," around his mouthful and endeavored to swallow as much as possible so as to clear the evidence of his transgression.
"Take your time, Cai - chew, then swallow," I said automatically, adding "What do you mean, 'doing what I do'?"
Cai was too busy trying to chew his mouthful of food; in his place, Syd piped up.
"The thing with the oven," she said, picking up a piece of bread and attempting to butter it with the not-quite-pliable stick of butter, biting her tongue in concentration.
"The thing...what? What thing?" I said to the table at large, knowing that Syd, while concentrating, would not easily be maneuvered back to my topic.
I saw two pairs of almost-identical hazel eyes look at me, unmoved by my confusion.
"The oven..." said Maddie placidly.
"...after you cook," finished Paris.
They both sat there unmoving, looking at me with their heads cocked and eyebrows raised in readiness for my comprehension. Which I didn't give them, because I didn't know what they were talking about.
Now two more pairs of almost-identical eyes, blue this time, looked at me with a growing level of humor at my confusion.
"You know, mommers..." started Syd,
"When you cook bread..." Cai added,
"...or enchiladas..." Syd pointed out helpfully,
"Oh yeah, or brownies too," Cai rejoindered,
"And corn-flake chicken!" Syd exclaimed happily.
"WHAT YOU DO IS..." Paris interjected, funneling the conversation back to the point.
"What you do, is after dinner you finish the dishes and then you put the dishrag on the oven door," Maddie continued the story,
"...and you stand there," said Paris,
"With the door open," said Syd, nodding,
"And your hands out," said Cai,
"Or your...backside," Maddie said, to some snickers,
"And you... stand." finished Paris.
"Stand," repeated Maddie.
"Yep. Right there," agreed Cai.
"Yep," Syd said, nodding.
And all of the sudden I could picture myself, the dishes finished, and me standing before a half-open over to warm my damp hands. As I move closer to the oven the heat washes over me and I feel all the unrealized half-cold places like ears and noses start to defrost. The heat is so wonderful and it's so cold in the winter and...
Oh yeah, I do do this!
And it's then I put it all together.
"Our kitten is sitting on the DVD player because it's warm there, isn't she?" I said.
"Yes!" said Cai, and then suddenly everyone was back to eating and the conversation turned to 'What 4 people you would kiss if you had to'.
So now you know what my kitten does during dinner and what I do after. Which story could have been considerably shorter but... well, this is just how we do things here. Everything relates to everything else and everyone's connected.
Even kittens and mommersez.
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