Flambé

Cooking is probably my least favorite chore these days. By dinner time I would be content with a smoothie, or a salad. Cooking makes a big mess, sometimes no one even eats it, and with Boo, some of the food will most certainly be slimed all over me, the floor, and if she really gets in a mood, at the wall. But I like healthy children, so I persist. I cook their foods separately, rarely do ingredients touch each other. Soups and casseroles do not fly in this house.

Today I had my very first cooking fire. Both the Warlock and I panicked a bit. The Warlock ran for the fire extinguisher while I screamed. After an eternal 16 seconds I came to my senses and removed my pan from the stove. No damage was done, luckily.

"You know, the correct way to handle that would have been to put a lid on the pan, " the Warlock noted. So true.

Bardo, in his sternest of voices lectured, "Mom, that was scary. You are not ever gonna let that happen again. If that happens again, I don't think you'll get to go to Disneyland."

Pippi, starving, remarks, "If that chicken is not okay, I'm eating this." She holds up a container of deli turkey.

And then, as we sat down for dinner, the Warlock with the grin I love so much says, "Children, I hope you appreciate this dinner that your mother flambéed for us." He pours on the spicy BBQ sauce, puts his chicken between two slices of bread and devours that flambeed chicken. Pippi follows suit. Bardo....well, we're working on branching out from cheese still.