Every Sunday night we have a ritual. We usually have a big, sit at the table, lunch right after church, so we usually do snacks for dinner that we eat on the couch as we watch some TV. We like reality TV the best. We like to make fun of people and we feed off each other. We are pretty stinkin' hilarious if I do say so myself. I usually end up in tears, and while I've never wet my pants from laughing so hard, I have had a few close calls. I love that about my kids, they are quick and witty and hilarious. (I'm pretty sure they get that from me. HEE HEE:) But that's off subject, let me reign it back in here...
We don't usually put much effort into the snacks, but we like to bake cookies or brownies or cheese sticks or something warm. I don't know what it is, but even if it's brownies, eating something warm makes it a meal instead of junk and that takes away the mom guilt. Don't ask questions, just go with it. Regardless of what you may have heard, I'm not a terrible cook. I'm not going to star in a cooking show any time soon, but I'm not bad. EXCEPT on Sundays. I don't know if I'm too laid back and just not on top of things on Sunday's (the day of rest) or if I shouldn't be cooking so much so I'm getting zapped, or what it is, but without fail I start a fire in the kitchen EVERY SINGLE SUNDAY. I'm not kidding. We have had the dish towel left on the burner fire, the something spilled over in the oven fire, the funnel cake oil fire, the smoked (literally) veggie fire, and last night the adding the soda and vanilla to the caramel sauce at the same time causing a reaction and huge flammable overflow fire, to name a few. The problem is not the fire, I am great under pressure, and I have taken fire safety training when I was trying to adopt the kids, so I know how to keep it under control. The real problem is the lady that lives in the smoke alarm. She totally bugs. She starts out calm and slow, saying "Danger, Fire, Danger, Fire" over and over, but as she goes along she gets faster and more intense and while that might SEEM helpful, it totally isn't. And she's LOUD. Like, Eardrum piercing loud. And she isn't easy to get to shut up either.
The first time it happened the kids didn't know what was going on and they ran outside and across the street to our designated "safe meeting place" yelling "Fire! Fire!"(I'm sure the neighbors love us.) But since then we have come up with a system. The fire starts and I get busy shutting that sucker down while Adia grabs the step stool and Ethan grabs the Children's Dictionary of Spanish Words book (It's large, but light weight and gets good air flow without tiring out your arms too quickly - it's a science.) We all meet up under the fire alarm, where Adia has the stool perfectly positioned and Ethan hands over the book. I climb on the stool and go to fanning while the kids open all the windows in the house and turn on all the fans. With any luck the heater kicks on then and helps blow all the smoke out rather quickly. Sometime, when we bring our A game, we can air it out before the lady ever starts yelling at us. Other times we aren't so lucky, but we have improved a lot since we first moved in. I know some of you would suggest I stop cooking on Sundays, claiming that I am putting my children in danger or being a bad example. But I prefer to think of it as a good thing. It builds unity, helps us learn to work together efficiently, and provides memories that will last a lifetime. AND it reminds us to change the fire alarm batteries regularly and review our fire safety plan while we're at it. Plus, you didn't taste the peaches and cream stuffed french toast smothered in that caramel sauce we made. That makes it all worth it in the end... Yum!
