Cooking

My kids are learning to cook. We got home late this afternoon. Then as I helped Pookie into her jumper and got everything arranged to her liking, I discovered that one of the doors on our rec room entertainment center was off its hinge. Given Pookie's need for order, this was totally unacceptable. And it would soon lead to more permanent damage if I didn't get it fixed.

But it was dinner time. Decisions needed to be made, food prepared, hungry children fed, then bathed, then snuggled. Pookie was demanding music on, song 4, lights off, entertainment center doors shut... but I couldn't shut the door.

The transition home from our afternoon out was not going smoothly. I lost it. Momentarily I could not imagine how this situation could turn out well: Pookie would lean on me as I struggled with the hinge, demanding who knows what. Dee Dee and Little Dudely would bicker in another room. Dinner would never get made. I didn't even know what to make. They'd never get to bed, and I'd never get my quiet time. Doom, I tell you. Doom!

Suddenly I was struck by insight: how could things possibly go well if I didn't expect them to? So I took a deep breath and imagined everything working itself out easily. I stood up, went to the kitchen and explained to Dee Dee and Little Dudely that they were making dinner tonight. Rice pilaf and frozen veggies. (Not gourmet, but it'll do in a pinch.) Sure, they'd need a little help, but after the shock and doubt wore off they were empowered.

I was off to my mission in the rec room, free from the responsibility of cooking. Sort of. Amazingly, when I was calm, I could find an extra hand (OK it was my shin) to hold the door in place while I reassembled the hinge pieces. And I discovered how the manufacturer had thoughtfully placed a hole in the TV stand so I could tighten the critical hinge screw.

When I returned to the kitchen I found Dee Dee and Little Dudely working as a team... Ha! They were fighting over who got to do what. So I found more tasks for them, like switching the laundry into the dryer, and turning down the TV that Pookie had up way too loud.

I think they enjoyed dinner a bit more than usual knowing that they had cooked it (mostly) by themselves. And I enjoyed the evening a bit more than usual knowing that I had saved myself from certain doom merely by expecting better.