So, you think things are pretty ship-shape in your neck of the woods, do you?
Well, think again, gentle readers.
Here at the old Circle H Ranch, we have really clean pasta; we're talkin' strands of spaghetti so clean you could almost EAT off of them! That is, if Miss Cee hadn't gotten too near them...
It just so happened to be Spaghetti Night here, and all seven of us had tucked in, with some zeal, to heaping plates of spaghetti with sausage-marinara sauce. Well, not Alina...she dined on gluten-free rice fusilli. That's a small detail, however, this dietary variation protected the condition of her leftovers, as you shall soon see...
Unexpectedly, the full complement of Sevenhollidays [our former e-mail address] surrounded the table tonight. David (with newly pierced ears) happened to stop by to pick up his mail and was enticed [well, it wasn't really all that hard] to stay for supper.
I am the first to admit that, often, I mis-guess the proper quantity of food to prepare, especially when it comes to pasta; have you noticed the kinship of dry pasta to dried out sponges? Both swell unpredictably when immersed in water. However, Ben had come home from his job at the frame shop and pronounced that he was "famished." I had already batted away the Busy Pink Hand as it hovered mischievously over the bowl of pineapple tidbits: "But, Mommy, I'm so very, very hungry!!!"
Even John, the official Secretary of Snacks, broke out in a grin of antcipation when he learned what the entree du jour was. It's very hard to miss with Newman's Own tomato, basil, and garlic pasta sauce...on sale, even!
Well, better too much than too little with hungry menfolk about. Or so I thought.
Mere minutes later, Queen Cee realized her plate was empty, and that she'd already eaten the last cheese-stuffed breadstick; therefore, it was time to change gears.
Note to Self: Keep a sharp eye--at all times--on this particular Hollidayette, as she can be a "slippery" one; pun intended!
Now, at the advanced age of eight years, she still harbors an extreme enthusiasm for soap suds...especially when they're "really squishy!!" And, if none are in evidence, don't kid yourself: SHE knows what that bottle of liquid Dawn is for!
It would be an understatement to report that Cecily has excellent reflexes when anywhere in the vicinity of any form of soap or detergent; the bubblier, the better.
Too late, we were shaken from our gastronomic pursuits...
Miss Cee: "Whooops!"
Dad: "Cecily, what are you doing?!"
*David and Ben exchange knowing smirks*
Miss Cee: "It's OK, Daddy. I just was washing my hands!"
Dad: [not thrown off the scent so easily] "Then, what was the 'whoops!' for?
* a moment of desperate hesitation as various possible answers are mulled...*
Miss Cee, the Culprit: "Well, you see, I forgot that the drainer thing was still underneath here in the sink."
Dad: "You mean the colander with all the leftover spaghetti in it?"
Miss Cee: "Um.....But! It's still good! It's just REALLY clean now! This soap smells so good!"
*Six sets of eyes begin orbiting in their respective heads.*
Thankfully, her favorite accoutrement-the trusty Swiffer sweeper-was out of sight and out of mind. Otherwise, things might have gotten even MORE inappropriately hygienic around here...