What's Your Favorite Meal?

My favorite: the meal I don't have to cook. Even better: the meal I don't have to plan, cook or clean up. I must've missed this ad when it first came out:




Everyone in my family knows that my favorite meal is "the one I don't have to cook." I can ask my girls, "What's my favorite meal?" and they will roll their eyes and answer in monotone.

Because I have repeated this ad nauseam around my family, I felt obliged to act happy when Carl prepared supper this evening, the girls set the table and I only had to put down my book and sit at my place. Act is the operative word though. Carl dished a plate pleasing to my eyes...but that's where "pleasing" stopped.

He had prepared browned ground venison ("buck burger" he called it...and the buck's head now hangs in our building project...how's that for appetizing???) with purple cabbage, green broccoli florets, sauteed onions, whole wheat cooked macaroni, chopped orange baby carrots and red bell peppers. The bright colors tantalized my eyes, but past experience with Carl's cooking experiments had left me...shall we say...hesitant. He had always included a surprise ingredient.

Tonight was no exception. I took a cautious bite of macaroni (it seemed the least risky) and chewed a few times while Katie and Hailey simultaneously took a bite from their own plates. A few seconds later we all hastily gulped down our waters.

"What kind of pepper did you use in this?" I asked, my eyes watering. Carl knows I don't like pepper. He always tries to sneak some in so that one of these days, when I claim to enjoy his concoction, he can smugly tell me how much pepper he used.

"I didn't use pepper."

"Then why does my mouth burn?"

"Oh, that. I used enchilada sauce. But I only used one can. I had two cans out. Do you like it?"

I paused, weighing the value of honesty against the value of having others occasionally prepare meals in my house. I ate a couple of grapes to cool my mouth before I answered, "It is my favorite meal. Far be it from me to say anything negative about a meal I only had to sit down to."

"Nee pah-ee," Hannah interrupted, informing us that she needed to potty. Saved by Hannah.

When Carl stood to help Hannah down from the table, Hannah asked, "Whuh du-wing? (What are you doing?)"

"Don't you need to potty?" Carl asked.

Hannah looked directly at Carl, lifted her right cheek from her seat and said, "Ppssssssssss."

I have no idea where she got that, but I nearly peed my own pants.