~★~♥~♥~★~ El Nighto! ♥~★~★~♥ ~
May 12, 2012
It is probably too late to play miniature golf today, but you do still have time to reach over and give your cat a hug — if you have a cat, of course. If you have been waiting eagerly for Nutty Fudge Day, there is always next year!
Limericks Day is being celebrated all weekend in honor of Edward Lear, who was born on this day in 1812. He wrote a whole book of limericks, a book of nonsense, and The Owl and The Pussycat. My ignorance is very clear; I had never heard of Ed Lear. Tis true what they say: you learn something new every day! Let’s go celebrate with a beer! Clever El Morno friends contributed limericks in honor of Ed Lear last year, and I enjoyed reading them all over again this year. Check them out: Limerick Contributions by My Odd Family.
Happy birthday Katherine Hepburn (1907), academy award winning actress; Yogi Berra (1925), baseball hall of famer; and George Carlin (1937), comedian. A friend on Facebook wrote today, “My 11-year-old daughter and I have reached an increasingly rare stage of commonality. Neither of us has any idea who anyone is in People magazine.” I always feel so good when I recognize the celebrity who is having a birthday without having to visit IMDb. Another Facebooker pointed out the “the final stage is when we don’t have any idea who anyone is in our household.” I think he is speaking of parents of teens. Who are these children we gave birth too?
My 16 year old moves from sitting on my lap in the “big chair,” to “informing” me that he is driving into the Chicago loop with friends to dine at the Union Club at 9:00 p.m. on a school night, to texting me that he is at Pep Boys having the oil changed, a tire fixed, and a new air filter put in his car. These days, my head spins more than Linda Blair’s did in The Exorcist! Fortunately, I am not spewing green stuff — YET. Cole leaves in one week with his tenth grade class to spend two weeks in New Orleans building houses for Katrina victims. I am looking forward to missing him . . . let me tell you about the crab bisque.
Last Sunday Cole made crab bisque, for 20, to go along with his school report on New Orleans cuisine. The night before, his uncle explained to him how to make the bisque and Cole typed the recipe into his i-Phone. On Sunday he headed to Trader Joe’s to buy all the ingredients. Experience has taught me that when my son heads into these projects with complete confidence, he probably doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing; but since I pose no threat in the kitchen, he is totally happy to have me help. I cleaned up, stirred endlessly, and adjusted how much chopped jalapeno and wine was added to the pot. The final product was very tasty.
Cole headed off to school with the pot (the lid was secured with a bungie cord), bowls, spoons, a ladle, oyster crackers, and a warming tray — a little resentful that I had insisted he make two trips to load the car. And my final words to him were “Honey, when you carry the stuff into school, make two trips.”
The phone rang 45 minutes later, and when I heard “Hi Mom”, I was pretty sure my son was ok but that the car had been in an accident. There was a pause before the next words: “I was walking into school with the crab bisque, and I tripped and spilled all the soup.” Relief poured through me as I said, “I’m so sorry, but no use crying over spilled soup. What should we do?” (Yes, I really did say that.) And then Cole said, “Can you make another pot and have it to school by 1:00 p.m.” And I said, “Oh shit.” (Yes, I really did say that!) Cole then sounded really sad when he said “Mom, it’s ok. You don’t have too.” And so I said, “I’ll make the soup.” And then he said, “Will it be as good as the one I made yesterday.” And I said, “You had better say ‘bye’ and text me the recipe before I ask you if you made two trips into school.”
The soup had a lot less wine the second time around since I was drinking it in a water glass at 10:30 a.m. muttering, “I cannot cook; I do not like to cook; why must I cook,” as I tried to keep stuff on the stove from burning while I chopped celery, onion, and jalapeno. The soup was delivered to school into the arms of a very relieved boy, who said, “Thanks so much Mom . . . Do you think it’s good?”
Driving home from dropping off the soup, I called my mom, who laughed hard when I told her about my morning and asked me if I remembered the time I dropped and cracked a practically impossible to find record album with my baton twirling music on it the night before I needed it for a talent show performance. I was throwing the album into the air and dropped it on my famous last words: “I won’t . . . .” My sweet mom spent the entire next day finding replacement music for me in time for the performance.
Smiling, I told her that I remembered the moment Cole told me about the soup.
And someday Cole will remember . . .
Happy Mother’s Day Eve!
Odd Loves Company!
P.S. If you want to read This Day In History and all the celebrity birthdays for today–Click May,12, 2011.