My husband, Mike, and I babysat my daughter’s children while she and her husband celebrated their anniversary with dinner and a movie. For dinner, I made macaroni and cheese for the kids. You’d have thought I’d never made
macaroni and cheese before.
At the dinner table, Philip, 7, and Clare, 5, argued about who made the best macaroni and cheese, me or their mom. Clare opted for me; Philip put a thumb down.
“There’s too much milk,” Philip said.
“Well, I think there’s too much butter,” Clare countered. I could see her wavering, coming around to her brother’s point of view.
“Too much milk.”
“No, too much butter. I taste a lot of butter,” Clare said, as if that were a bad thing. Julia Child would be devastated.
Philip got up and showed me the picture on the macaroni and cheese box. “It’s supposed to look like this,” he said. We stared in the pot. I was pretty sure it did. Read the rest of this entry