A few of my "Abraham Darby" David Austin English Roses--they smell like lemon and sunshine.
It was late and I hadn’t yet fixed dinner. I blame it on the summer time schedule; the kids don't go to school or do homework, my husband, an elementary school teacher, doesn't have to work. So, why should I have to cook dinner? That’s my summertime question. It is my question spring, winter and fall, as well, but I am pretty sure I know the answer to that one. But when everyone is frolicking about, I resent, just a teensy, being the only one who has to adhere to her school year schedule. Besides, I was really tired. It hadn’t even been a full 24 hours since we arrived home from our six hour sojourn at the amusement park and I still hadn’t recovered. Besides, who wants to cook when there are roses such as these about?
My little guy generally doesn’t eat so no need to worry there. My daughter can fix her own bowl of ice cream or cold cereal (hey, it’s okay once or twice a week, right?) and my husband is fully capable of interpreting those stomach pains to mean hunger. He knows where the fridge is, too. No worries, there. My big guy, on the other hand, who has no problem whatsoever acquiring his own breakfast and lunch, seems to be fully and woefully incapable of fixing himself something to eat anytime after 4 o’clock. He will roam around the house (not a long trip, it’s pretty darn small) and say things like, “I’m hungry. What’s for dinner?” over and over and over again. When he sees that this elicits no response, he adds this catchy phrase, “BUT, I guess nobody cares . . .” Then he heaves a huge sigh and stands around in a way that threatens “I’m not leaving until you feed me”.
The double decker four piece of bread three layers of lunchmeat and pickles with 6 sides smothered in mustard sandwich in question---my boys wouldn't leave it alone long enough for me to get a non-fuzzy photo of it . . .
The little guy emoting true sandwich appreciation and lust--he's a theatrical type. Suddenly everyone was happy and smiling and no more heavy sighs were heaved.
There was joy and laughter and generally, life was being enjoyed to its fullest. Who knew it was so easy to avert future therapy disaster?
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