Oh Lamb of Bridgewater...
My son is in tears.
Last week my daughter was in tears.
Today I am fighting them off.
All over silly mistakes.
Last week, just as my in-laws were arriving at Newark my daughter asked if she could have some lemonade. She accidentally spilled it all over the fridge - sticky stuff on every half-eaten salsa jar, every cold cut package, every everything. I completely lost it. Tears, screaming and verbal abuse... not a pretty scene. We cleaned it up, together (no, it wasn't some Kodak moment, either), and a week later you wouldn't know it ever had been that clean (or that dirty).
Fast forward to Easter morning. My son didn't want to get up. Not even to search for treats from the Easter Bunny. We eventually coaxed him into the hunt and he had a good time, but the bad mood stayed on all day. 'nuf said!
Then just as I was showing off the beautiful leg of lamb dinner to MIL, I bumped it into the over door and promptly dropped the whole thing - all done, just waiting for the potatoes to finish up - all over the floor! Gravy everywhere (de ja vu to the lemonade scene). Instead of verbally beating up my daughter, I had to hold back the tears while I beat myself up and said "XYorZ would never do this!"
I did what you are never ever supposed to do. I put it back into the dish and threw it into the oven praying that there was no dog hair and that my husband wouldn't notice. He'd say something. MIL was there and saw the whole thing - I thought for sure she'd freak, but she didn't!
But no one noticed (or at least screamed "EEEW HAIR!") and I got praise both for the food and its presentation.
Happy Easter everyone!
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona nobis pacem.
Last week my daughter was in tears.
Today I am fighting them off.
All over silly mistakes.
Last week, just as my in-laws were arriving at Newark my daughter asked if she could have some lemonade. She accidentally spilled it all over the fridge - sticky stuff on every half-eaten salsa jar, every cold cut package, every everything. I completely lost it. Tears, screaming and verbal abuse... not a pretty scene. We cleaned it up, together (no, it wasn't some Kodak moment, either), and a week later you wouldn't know it ever had been that clean (or that dirty).
Fast forward to Easter morning. My son didn't want to get up. Not even to search for treats from the Easter Bunny. We eventually coaxed him into the hunt and he had a good time, but the bad mood stayed on all day. 'nuf said!
Then just as I was showing off the beautiful leg of lamb dinner to MIL, I bumped it into the over door and promptly dropped the whole thing - all done, just waiting for the potatoes to finish up - all over the floor! Gravy everywhere (de ja vu to the lemonade scene). Instead of verbally beating up my daughter, I had to hold back the tears while I beat myself up and said "XYorZ would never do this!"
I did what you are never ever supposed to do. I put it back into the dish and threw it into the oven praying that there was no dog hair and that my husband wouldn't notice. He'd say something. MIL was there and saw the whole thing - I thought for sure she'd freak, but she didn't!
But no one noticed (or at least screamed "EEEW HAIR!") and I got praise both for the food and its presentation.
Happy Easter everyone!
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona nobis pacem.
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