Continuing to pursue my intense desire for some sort of organisation and system that works with me, and I with it, my children happily entertained themselves.
They did so by building LEGO trains, playing on the Wii and staging protests against their neglectful parents in relation to the Tomato Sauce Issue. Namely, the severe lack of said substance.
This was executed via the use of my best whiteboard markers, the defacing of my Very Important WhiteBoard
The protest, so they felt, carried more weight if they utilised those very same whiteboard markers for defacing them very selves.
I guess I’m happy it was the whiteboard markers and not the permanent markers, which they have taken a great liking to for using on faces previously.
Meanwhile, I was busy not even considering the leaving of the house, much less the purchasing of tomato sauce. At some point, I did consider the preparation of the evening meal, and after the last few days of eating out and the like we’v had, I opted for a light, vegetarian based meal.
“Can we have bacon in it?” asks Grumpy Pants.
Why, yes! Yes of course there will be bacon in it, now you mention it. Because, bacon!
Thus, after Grumpy’s rampant cleansing of the refrigerator a few nights back, and the overuse of all but a few available vegetables in the house, or options for dinner included a mix of bacon, bok choy and carrot.
So he went out and bought some more, helpful ingredients.
He returned not having purchased tomato sauce.
A bacon on broccoli pasta, with just a touch of cream was enjoyed.
Afterwards, despite the high levels of cheese ‘garnishing’ each dish, Chippie desired a drink of milk. He insisted it also have a sippy lid attached to the cup.
Inevitably, this resulted in my managing to tip milk down my top, over half my face and over half of Monkey Boy’s head during the process of securing the lid to the cup.
The irony was not lost on me.
Thus, this morning, an additional load of washing was called for (because despite being forced to strip off last night, I completely forgot to put the machine on) and … well, tomato sauce was the last thing on my mind.
I also seem unable to articulate in a way that my offspring comprehend that I am not actually going out