I have created a monster. A two-headed monster that can’t sleep without me, whom nobody else can hear or comfort in the dark of the night. A monster of my very own, to love and hug and call George.
I lie in bed with the one, listening to the other toss and turn. When the one is finally asleep enough, I creep away, to lift the other from his repose and direct him towards the bathroom, where he relieves himself and can be deposited back where he belongs. The other one wakes up because I’m no longer there. I go back to her. Lather, rinse, repeat. I crawl into my own bed and lie there for a while, waiting to see what will happen. I hear a cough, in stereo, one from each room.
I wonder how I got myself into this mess, and how long it will be before I remember it longingly and wish for the days when I only had to lie down beside my children to soothe their ills and quiet their restlessness.
This morning, Monkey stood in the bathroom calling to us: “Hey! Guess what shape I can make my penis into! Come and see!”
On to more lofty matters. I had a notion that I would blog dinner for a week, just to see what happens. I did the shopping yesterday, so I’m starting there. I have done my usual amount of meal-planning; that is, I have an idea of about three days’ worth of dinners, and after that it’ll be the seat-of-our-pants all the way. And you can be here to see how it all pans out. I promise to faithfully chronicle what we eat, hopefully with photographic evidence, from last night for the next six evenings. (I will even try to remember to take a photo of the food on a plate, from today on.)
So, without further ado: Saturday – Sausages, Beans and Mash.
I cut some potatoes in half, boiled them for 15 minutes, drained them, and mashed them with some grated parmesan, a couple of pats of butter, a splash of buttermilk, salt, pepper, and a grating of fresh nutmeg. (I highly recommend investing in some fresh nutmeg. It lasts forever, is simple to use, and smells light years more amazing than the pre-grated stuff.) Here are the potatoes before the masher met them.
I took my sausages (sweet Italian), poked a few holes on each side, and stuck them in the oven at 425 for half an hour, turning after 15 minutes. Easiest way to cook sausages.
And then I topped and tailed my green beans (which looked a tiny bit the worse for wear as they’d been sitting in the fridge for the best part of a week), and boiled them for 7 minutes. I tossed them with some olive oil and salt and pepper and wished I had a lemon to zest over too, but they turned out really sweet and delicious.
This is where the photo I forgot to take goes. (Sorry. Will try harder tonight.) But it tasted good, if basic and unfrilly.
Success! Mabel, having dined on baked beans, chomped down almost an entire sausage and discovered she likes green beans. She still refuses to try mashed potato. I don’t undersand my children, turning their backs on the land of their forefathers.
(Monkey will not be appearing in the child scores, as he would skew the results irreparably.)