The L Word
posted in Frenzied Daddy |There is one word in this house that turns every smile into a frown. It turns every hope of a happy fun evening into one filled with boredom and drudgery. It turns every decision about dinner into a depressed death watch as we march into the kitchen.
Leftovers.
Witness:
Monday night I made tunafish casserole. Because I know that the Bs ( the DQ and Ms B ) like it, I also made a batch of home made mac and cheese. You see, I already was cooking the noodles, and it just means I dump in the whole bag instead of reserving the last quarter of a bag. I’ve done it a few times and each time it gets rave reviews. The only person who likes the tuna casserole more than the mac and cheese is the TT. But that’s to be expected, I expect. This time it was extra special; Grandma P had dropped off about a quarter of a pound of Co-Jack cheese, so it was half cheddar, a quarter colby and a quarter jack.
The DQ announced it was my best mac and cheese ever. Ms B argued that while it was indeed delicious, she needed the tillamook white cheddar one made again, just for comparison’s sake. There was about half of the mac and cheese left after dinner. I put it in the fridge.
Tuesday the DQ asked, she frequently does, as we went from school to home in the evening; “What’s for dinner?” When I told her it was leftovers, I could hear her face fall from the back seat into her lap, and then it tried to crawl up the door and out the window. So much for “the best Mac and Cheese ever.”
I’m just now finishing up the “italian chicken” that wasn’t what everyone else hoped for. It’s ok though, and I’m enjoying it. I guess Friday I’ll be eating that Mac and Cheese. Here’s to leftovers. 
