Never picture perfect dinner…

I worked Friday and Saturday, so we took Sunday as our family day.  We had worship and the Word together in the morning. The rest of the day was spent setting up the camper, making grocery lists, making star night brownies, and getting my second term lesson plans in order.

Enter supper time.  I forgot to thaw anything and we had clean-out-the-fridge lunch, so we had sandwiches for supper.  I’m down to the last slice of bread. Everyone’s sandwiches are made, fruit’s on the table and I start heating up canned soup. Happy Girl calls everyone in to wash hands, and while they’re finishing up, I turn around and see Buckeye the Wonderdog with one paw in my daughter’s chair, stealing half of a pb & j off her plate. Get dog down, get some turkey and string cheese to replace part of sandwich. Everyone assembles, another daughter tips her cup of water all over her plate and now has a soggy sandwich.  We clean water off plate, table, chair and floor, throw out soggy sandwich and make a replacement quesadilla with final tortilla. Finally get through a prayer and start eating.

Someone starts loudly gulping down their water, sounding like a sailor drinking grog on a three-day shore leave.  Then I have to explain what grog is.  Doodlebug starts conversation with “What would happen if the food came up my esophagus?” We hurriedly move on to topics of more general interest and less gore.  After the children are excused, my husband and I are talking about our week, when the children come in screaming from the yard. “There’s a dead mole and Buckeye’s trying to eat it!”  My husband wants to finish his meal before disposing of the mole, so the dog comes back inside.  I’m refilling glasses in the kitchen when I hear Tunewalker telling Doodlebug why he can not pick his nose at the table. We start telling Blue Eyes, the star of the week, what we like about her  and eating our brownies when the dog sits under the table.  Apparently the excitement of it all is too much for him and he has ummm…a sudden loss of air pressure.  The sudden loss of appetite is inevitable.  Meal over.  My hero goes out to dispose of the dead mole while we clean up the table and kitchen with all speed.  Most meals aren’t this awful.  This was really a comedy of errors, but I was certainly glad when this day was over!

Another day done...

 

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