Dinnertime. I have half an hour to make the soup Baby A and I made up in the car this morning in the ten minutes between Mills Lawn Elementary, where we dropped off Li'l A, and Baby A's preschool.
This soup has beans (red and black) and veggies (I used frozen gumbo ingredients) and potato dumplings (I used pillowy gnocchi from a package) and is finished off with the grated manchego from earlier this week and a handful of leftover parsley and oregano (distressed, humiliated, and super stressed from my kids mishandling them).
Everything was going well until Li'l A said with a teasing, big-sibling smirk, that soup would taste better with Melody (Baby A's tattered stuffed mallard) in it. I was so shocked I dropped to my knees in front of Baby A who promptly clutched Melody to her chest and burst into loud and (overly) lavish tears.
To teach Li'l A a lesson, we give Melody a special hug and a treat. Then we snatch up Li'l A's favorite song (The Killers, Human*) out of the air as it plays on Pandora, ball it up, and drop it into the soup pot.
Dinner was delicious.
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* I love Li'l A's interpretation of the lyrics "Are we human or are we dancer(s)?"--It's a song about Destiny, he told me. "Are we human or do we have to follow a routine like dancers?" (Let the record show that he is a "Bollywood Dancer" in the school production of Jungle Book, and is all too familiar with being expected to follow "the steps.")
(Which reminds me that when my Amma asked Kindergarten me if I knew "my steps" for the Christmas play at schooI, I promptly nodded, fetched my sketchbook and drew her a set of stairs. Also, after that particularly spectacular misunderstanding, I fell asleep on stage and forgot to make my offering--I was a "flowergirl"--to the blessed baby Jesus.)
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