Tonight we all sat down to a lovely dinner of steak, noodles with cheese sauce, and salad. Around the dining room table and everything. Which is where our family has graduated to. We outgrew the kitchen table, but sometimes, if we're in a hurry, or just too lazy to clear off the day to day junk that tends to accumulate on the dining room table, the kids will eat at the kitchen table, I will hop up onto the counter and eat, and David will just stand. An endearing family picture, I know. But it happens.
Anyway, back to this evening's tale. I think I will be one of those mothers who cuts up her children's food into teensy bite sized pieces until they're in junior high. Probably out of habit from all those years of having to be so careful about what they put in their mouth.
Tonight I cut up the steak but just sort of slopped the noodles on everyone's plate. Reese isn't a big noodle eater anyway. Drue eats them just a few at a time and very carefully. But I forgot about Tate's tendency to shove all his food into his mouth at once like he has just returned from a refugee camp, and is eating his first good meal in months.
He shoved in a large helping of noodles and gagged a tiny bit, then promptly started pulling them back out of his mouth. Long, full sized, noodles.
Once his mouth was clear of noodles, he commented, "These noodles are good...but they choke me!".
Before you call child protective services, I did promptly get up and cut his noodles into inch sized pieces.
Meanwhile, Drue was making her way through her little meal. Halfway through her second helping she said that her foot had fallen asleep. (Probably from kicking mine 32 times under the table).
A few seconds later she said, "Oooooh, it feels all krinkly!".
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