A Delightfully, Delectable Dinner

Supper was memorable the other day.

We had company that stayed till just past 5.  We usually like to eat somewhere between 5 and 5:30.  So I threw a couple of chicken breasts in the pan and set a pan of water and rice to boil.  Paul was pestering me relentlessly about helping me cook so I set him to the task of stirring the rice as it softly boiled.  Off I went to do some other things in the house.

Soon a burning smell reached my nostrils.  I ran to the kitchen to find that Paul had abandoned the rice and it was cremated beyond recognition.  Sigh.  On the other hand, my chicken breasts were beautifully browned.  So it looked like the chicken ceaser salad was thus far the only thing edible for supper.

With the lovely charcoally aroma of cremated rice wafting in the air, I set a pot of water to boil on the stove.  It was now 6:00.  I threw a couple of handfuls of spaghetti into the boiling water and heated up a jar of sauce.  By 6:30 we were all seated at the table staring at a large chicken Caesar salad and a pot of spaghetti.  I salvaged Monday night's meal in decent time and felt pretty good about it

We prayed and everyone's plate was filled.  At my right, Seth began to wail.  I looked over at him wondering what on earth was possessing him.  Supper too close to bedtime?  Perhaps supper is NOT what he expected?  Did I bump him or forgot to fill his cup with water?

A slight pause ensued and then a volley of vomit spewed from his mouth.  A foul smelling waterfall cascaded from his mouth, splattered against his small mound of spaghetti and rebounded onto mine.

1..................    2...............    3............  yes we got 3 waves of vomit rain down upon our supper table that night--the supper that was painstakingly made twice over.  When the horror ceased we surveyed the damage.  Seth, coated in puke, was smiling.  "I feel WAY better mom!" was his charming reply.  Regurgitated noodles hung from the side of the table....still dripping.  Clear, mucousy vomit had pooled, covering half of the table and dripped off the side--every drip of course splattering a nearby chair.  At this point however, one could no longer smell the rice that had been burned earlier.  Nope, the air now smelled MUCH different. 

Dan ran a bath for the sick boy.  I cleaned up.  Then we all sat down and finished our supper.  One would think that this was normal in the Gordon household.  I don't know...it just is what it is.