We had the best of intentions when expressing to friends that we'd enjoy having them over for dinner, but rarely did we follow through with an invitation. I can count on one hand the number of times we entertained family and friends.
Make that half a hand. (Although can you really entertain .5 times? Maybe if the food is only half eaten. Or if only half your guests show. Or if said guests stay only half as long as expected. But then, you clearly haven't entertained them, have you?)
When we moved into our new house, we vowed to fill our it with food, family, and friends. And tonight we upheld that vow with a dinner invitation to The Quicks.
Mrs. Quick and I are recently made friends, our bond forged by a common interest in surviving motherhood. Our children are our pride and joy, and their births our breaks from sanity.
Mr. Quick is a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy. Mr. Starlet has an inherent aversion to most things healthy. There was no question that tonight's menu had to feature "Marlboro Man's Favorite Sandwich."
It's not just a meaty sandwich. It's sloppy. It's perfectly seasoned. And it takes at least 1/2 cup of butter to prepare. It's the kind of sandwich that will clog your arteries, but tastes so good that you don't mind that the average 80-year lifespan is no longer in the cards for you.
You'll just have to live it up more than some. OK, more than most.
Unless you counteract it with intense physical exercise. Running a marathon after dinner might help. Or, chasing housebound cats in circles as The Quicks' eldest did.
If only I had known how entertaining our otherwise lifeless cats were. I wouldn't have spent 30 minutes covering the dining room table in leftover packing paper so that this not-so-itty-bitty could color on the table while the adults got lost in Heart Attack Heaven.
On second thought, I would have. Crayons are fun. And there are few things more entertaining than watching a child correct her father that the "blue" crayon he intended to teasingly steal from her isn't blue but grey. Take that crayon stealer!
(And because I personally thought it was "black," I'm reminded that I desperately need some new eyeglasses...)
Like I said, motherhood is to be survived.
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