My slow descent into one of those other days started Friday night with the making of banana bread - something I make often and it's usually ok to pretty good depending on the recipe. But Friday I pulled some bananas out of the freezer and they did not thaw into a gooey mess as is so typical. In fact, they were firm. Beyond firm. But rather than think about how to fix this problem, I persisted with what I had because it was late. Mistake.
Saturday morning, a friend from university came by with her family. She lives elsewhere and I haven't seen her for a few years. In my mind I was going to be serving her kids this fabulous banana bread. Ugh. Even the chocolate chips didn't make it appealing to them. Instead our kids (the oldest is only 8) left the banana bread with chocolate chips on their plates and gobbled up apple slices instead.
All ok though. I laughed. We had a fabulous visit. I enjoyed myself immensely and like I do every time I see her, wished she lived closer.
After my friend left, it was time to get ready for some other friends coming by for supper.
Kerry and the kids went for a bit of a nap in an effort to avoid meltdowns when bedtime comes and goes and the kids are still going strong. It was in this quiet moment that I realized I was out of cocoa for the cake. I found on-line what must be a passable substitute. The batter tasted ok (don't worry friends, I didn't dip in my fingers to taste it) so I forged ahead and popped it into the oven. As the cake bubbled over the edge of the pan, and then burned on the bottom of the oven to fill the house with a burnt cake smell, I was not hopeful. Kerry headed out for some backup dessert. We didn't use it. The charred taste wasn't too strong and the cake itself was edible.
|What the cake should have looked like (without the birthday candles). |
Saturday's cake looked like the poor ugly cousin.
Things chugged along nicely until the first family arrived. Within seconds of their arrival one of our toilets plugged.
Recovered from that.
Then as the crowning glory of the evening, Meaghan announced quite loudly at the kids' table that she had a slug on her plate. It wasn't a slug. But it was a wee worm wiggling around. I had rinsed and spun the lettuce. Obviously not aggressively enough. Not surprisingly, people daintily moved bits of lettuce around their plates looking for movement. Nothing found. Only one tasty worm per meal in this house.
From my vantage point, friends saved the day. Despite some issues, I enjoyed good company the entire day. By bedtime the assorted mishaps paled in comparison to my friends, their kind (and totally fibbing) words, and our laughter.
I wonder if they'll ever eat here again....