Blue Crab Boulevard

Two Words

Tonight, I made supper for the family. A very simple meal, Salisbury steak, broccoli with cheese sauce and French fries. Not exactly a culinary masterpiece, but serviceable, relatively tasty and, best of all, quick. With about three minutes left on the timer before everything was ready, I called - ok, I bellowed - down to my youngest boy, playing a computer game in the basement, that it was time for supper.

Up he came and took his seat at the table. My wife and I were chatting a bit in the kitchen while my daughter was flitting about doing something or other. I got the tray of Salisbury steak over to the table while waiting for everything else to finish cooking. The timer was down to about a minute or so left. The fries in the oven, the broccoli in the microwave, everything timed to come out more or less at the same time.

The timer went off, the fries were finished, the broccoli cooked. My wife and I, having done this sort of thing many times, each grabbed - with potholders, of course - the food and got ready to move it to the table. A nice, easy, sit-down dinner with the family. We headed to the table.

Where my son was in the process of finishing his first Salisbury steak.

I wasn't particularly happy about that. I pointed out that the purpose of a meal was to be able to sit together as a family and that it was rather rude to just dig in before all of the food was on the table. He nodded and asked for the fries to be passed. Then he proceeded to eat his weight in fries and Salisbury steaks - along with some broccoli , strictly under duress. It was his turn to do dishes as well, so after everything was eaten (a service he gladly provided), he did the dishes.

A half an hour after dinner I walked into the kitchen and found my son eating several pieces of cheese.

About 20 minutes later he had a bowl - a very, very large bowl, approximately the size of his head - of ice cream. And my wife and I looked at one another and knew. We knew that the dreaded words were upon us. We knew that soon it would be time to go shopping, time to spend untold amounts of money. Time to deal with the most dreaded two words of parenthood.

Growth spurt.

Personal Thoughts | Gaius Monday, 15 January , 2007

By HoosierMom, Tuesday, 16 January , 2007 @ 10:18 am

I had to laugh with you (or else cry) as my 13 year old son is doing the same thing. I think parents of teenage boys are the ones keeping the economy going.
By paul a'barge, Tuesday, 16 January , 2007 @ 2:12 pm

My mother and father raised 4 boys, and I can remember several occasions when my mother left the table crying, heartbroken that she couldn’t cook enough food for a single meal.

My dad’s rejoinder? “Fill up on bread”!

Condolences, man.

Has you daughter reached that vampire/piranha stage where she torments your wife? That’s always a fun phase.
By Gaius, Tuesday, 16 January , 2007 @ 2:25 pm

She’s already reached the lightning mood swing phase. Blink: happy, blink: angry, blink: crying.

Enough to make you blinking crazy!
By Quilly Mammoth, Tuesday, 16 January , 2007 @ 10:07 pm

Luckily, at least for me, the current growth spurts of Tripp are the sole province of Mrs. QM. Not being equipped with the proper equipment you understand.

And my heart breaks for her later…all those nifty little recipes from Southern Living for dainty sized portions soon to be replaced by large chunks of meat surrounded by even larger amounts of carbs.

I can’t wait.
By Sylvia, Wednesday, 17 January , 2007 @ 12:04 am

Our 14yo DD has worn the same shoe size for all of three months. A record! They’re size 11’s, so maybe she’s slowing down on the growing? Then again, I knit a pair of mittens for her last week and she outgrew them in two days, and she seemed to be a bit taller yesterday. Oh, we increased her protein at breakfast and added a veg (steamed string beans or broccoli) and the mood swings ceased.

Best wishes, btw, to you and your family, especially the son overseas. May his 6-month extension be effective and satisfying, and may he return home safely.