Monday, March 2, 2015


Today is a snow day.  I don't mind snow days, they break up an otherwise bleak season of the year when there are few holidays.  What I do mind, is the 24-7 diner that opens up in my kitchen every time the good folks of Montgomery County declare there is no school on account of weather.  I'd like to declare a snow day from the snow day consequences.  

This morning for example, my 9 year old arrived promptly at 7:30, her normal get up time.  Graciously, she ensured that all those younger than her were also up.  They wanted cereal.  No problem. Four bowls, four spoons, debates over flakes with sugar or squares with sugar or little o's and x's with sugar, milk, milk, milk, milk and we're good for twenty minutes.  

My almost 11 year old gets up, and he's a planner so he doesn't just want to know what's for breakfast, but also what's for lunch and dinner and snack for the day.  A brief survey of the kitchen and he's satisfied and commences to fix a bagel for himself while I make my husband's lunch as he didn't get a snow day, just a delay.  

The teen goes to the coffee machine. It's a dangerous point in the morning as her activity can trigger an avalanche of people meowling for hot chocolate. (Once they learned the Keurig makes them in a minute, they don't see why I should ever object).  I object because once they've made the hot cocoa, they want it to cool so they can drink it, which usually means they either sit staring at it and scalding their tongues or they leave the table and an hour later, room temperature chocolate remains waiting their return.  

Fortunately, the younger set is distracted by the toys in the basement so the Swiss Miss stock is safe for now.   I've made it through seven of the ten in the household by ten, but I haven't eaten yet.   The twelve year old does go for the hot cocoa but she knows how to be stealthy about it.  She also makes herself peanut butter and toast.  The younger ones come through, convinced second breakfast should be served.  They'd like toast too.  The six year old breaks out the toaster strudel from the freezer, but I declared the kitchen closed to seconds before everyone gets firsts.  

The fifteen year old son also rises.  He is a conundrum on food, but he's also a surly morning person.  Seeing him enter the kitchen, the younger ones decide Mom's right, it isn't second breakfast time, it's go back downstairs to play to stay out of his way time.  Normally, he feasts on a protein shake and oatmeal with bananas.  But that's on a school day.  Today is a snow day.   He breaks out the mushrooms, onions, tomatoes, spinach, cheese and peppers.  He wants an omelette.  I love that he loves these things.  I rue that he's watched enough food network in his lifetime, he thinks sous chefs are part of ordinary living. Guess who is the sous chef?   I've taught him to dice up the veggies, but he likes when I do it.  I think I'm being played but I also admit, I don't mind if it gets me a pleasant conversation with my 15 year old son.  

Everyone's eaten.  It's 11 o'clock.  Huzzah!  There is a pile of dishes in the sink and my 16 year old returns to fix herself lunch.   Knowing the rest will come within the hour making the same demand, I feel tired at the reality of the rest of the day and how it will play out, and cut myself a slice of pie. Maybe I should adopt the Montgomery County school policy and declare the kitchen to have a two hour delay.      

No comments:

Leaving a comment is a form of free tipping. But this lets me purchase diet coke and chocolate.

If you sneak my work, No Chocolate for You!