The loss of a chuffy-chuffer
Nighttime comfort

For MY birthday...I got them

There was something special about dinner tonight. I’d like to think the joy around the table was caused by the meal itself (red chile casserole, known in these parts as red chile train wreck – or, if you’re our niece Kate and are sensitive to the idea of a train wreck oozing redness – red chile cargo train wreck. And broccoli), or the fact that I had prepared a rare mid-week dessert (angel food cake, with strawberries and blueberries and real whipped cream to spoon on top). However, it probably had more to do with the fact that dinner was served approximately twenty minutes late. Everyone arrived at the table in the perfect stage of hunger – ravenous and thrilled by the sight of food, but not quite grumpy from low blood sugar yet.

By the time the meal was over and we were all tucking into the cake, conversation turned to the boys’ favorite subject.

“This is SO good,” Max declared, still eating his third helping of casserole (note: the meal was over does NOT necessarily mean Max was done eating). “This is what I’m having for my birthday dinner. And after! Your famous chocolate cake.”

“I’m having grilled cheese sandwiches again,” announced Raphael. “And then cupcakes, to be faster.” He turned to me and petted my arm to be sure I was listening. “So we can get to the presents time.”

“Hey,” Clay interjected, “who here has the next birthday?”

“You!” they responded in unison.

“And then Jennie!” Tre listed the birthdays, “and then Raphi, then ME, then Max.”

“I’m having this cake,” Clay commented, stabbing his fork into his cake. Angel food cake is his favorite, which just MAY have something to do with this particular rare, mid-week dessert.

“I might have this too,” Tre said, “or apple crisp. I dunno.”

As they chattered, discussing the merits of chocolate cake or angel food cake, cupcakes or apple crisp, I sat back and listened. I suppose it’s wrong that they interpret food as love.

I’m certain it’s good, though, that they know they’ve got it coming.



I don't think it's wrong to interpret food as love. Not in this instant at least. I think it's love that the boys all knew when Clay's birthday is...that is what ooozed love for me. :)

Happiness is a fine meal with those who are not yet cranky hungry.

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