The Washing Has Dried

Christopher's comment that his new room was just like a hotel jarred me somewhat for I thought, "I don't do room service." His washing was dried, folded and put away and I considered that returning children might prove interesting in the new equation of our home. How wrong I was. The first night that I was cooking he approached me inquiring at what time we started dinner preparations. Prior to him moving out with his mates there had been no we. Dinner was cooked and announced and everyone was seated at the dining room table. What a pleasant surprise to find my son sweating onions with herbs and browning the meat. He even allowed me to add mushrooms. Those are the little items that he searches for intently once cooked and arranges them to be left in neat, little piles on the edge of his plate. Pie tray was greased without request while I thawed pastry and blind baked. I like the new world order. He remained assisting, clearing away until the pie was baking , along with the potatoes that he had peeled in the oven. I have great respect for the young man who came home to roost last week. Thank you for not commenting on my desiger pie top complete with floral pastry cut outs. That must have been challenging. His words, "That is a fancy pie top."