Hog Heaven

Before becoming a mom, I would have never anticipted how much I would dislike making dinner every night. Twelve years of "eww gross" and "do we have to eat that" have really soured my culinary ambitions. Most nights I just resort to whatever I can throw together that is quick, easy, and least likely to raise complaints. One of my favorite parts of visiting my parent's house is that someone else does the cooking.

Grandma has made us a lot of good stuff since we arrived, including an incredible Black Forest Cherry Cake for my birthday (yummm!), but the kids' favorite by far was Monday night's spaghetti. Like haute cuisine, Grandma's spaghetti wasn't so much about the food as the presentation. A delicious spaghetti dinner very literally laid out on the table before us--notice anything missing?

The kids were delighted when Grandma announced dinner would be eaten sans untensils.

It wasn't long before the food started to fly.


Within minutes we all looked like this:

and this:

and this:

Well, all of us except Bryce who got very upset when the pasta started to go airborne, and wanted no part in the insanity that had overtaken his family.

When we'd had our fill,

there was nothing left to do but wash up and, for once, the kids didn't even complain about helping.