Sometimes, All You Need Is A Mini Pumpkin Pie

Y’all, I have no idea how it happens, but yesterday I scrubbed my kitchen down until The Sparkle and Shine was like a new family member.  I mean it.  There was a frenzy of activity in there, as I unloaded the dishwasher and buffed dried-on, potato-and-corn-chowder slop off the counter and vacuumed the floor and mopped and watered the plants and put new wax in the Scentsy pot.

And now… today… my kitchen looks like a family of ill-mannered trolls, with bad hair and worse breath, lives in this house, and I’m pretty sure they’ve ransacked the pantry and the fridge, and WHOSE BANANA PEEL IS THIS ON THE COUNTER? and WHO SPILLED FISH FOOD NEAR THE STOVE, AND WHY IS THE FISH FOOD EVEN IN THE KITCHEN, SINCE THE FISH DON’T ACTUALLY LIVE IN THIS ROOM?

Needless to say, my kitchen looks nothing like it did, just twenty-four hours ago.

It all makes me crazy, people.  It makes me want to lie down on a leather sofa somewhere, while a professional person with a yellow legal pad sits behind me and LISTENS TO ME SPEAK, and then says, “It sounds like all of your troubles originate in your kitchen.”

Yes.  Yes, they do.  Because I have to clean that kitchen, and I have to cook in that kitchen, and then — somehow — it turns out looking like we cook illegal drugs in tin pots on the stove (We don’t!), and how do I get signed up for a maid service who comes in while I’m out and just tidies things up and leaves a homemade casserole in my oven?

Other than that, I’m doing fine.  Thank you for asking.

Part of that FINE is a direct result of the boy’s comment after school today.  When I picked him up, I asked him how school was (“It was fine, Mom.”), and then I asked him, “What was the best thing about today?”  I always follow with that question, because it forces him to chat with me, and I’m all about SEVEN SIMPLE WAYS TO GET YOUR TEENAGE BOY TALKING TO YOU, or whatever they’re calling the self-help book these days.

(Not that I really need to encourage the boy to talk to me, because the boy is A TALKER.  He talks nonstop.  He talks to everyone.  But still.  I want to be totally on top of my Parenting Game Plan, so I follow all the suggested guidelines.)

Today, the boy answered my question with, “The best thing about today was that pumpkin pie in my lunchbox!”

Because YES!  I totally packed him a miniature pumpkin pie today.  Pumpkin pie is one of the boy’s love languages, and I found tiny ones at the grocery store yesterday, so I snapped one up for him.    (It’s because I had just cleaned my kitchen thoroughly, so no way was I gonna bake one in that pristine place and mess anything up!)  And then I forgot to tell the boy that I had one, so it was just quietly shoved into his lunch bag, I guess.

And then the boy said, “Mom, it was the best surprise ever… finding that pumpkin pie in my lunchbox.  It was super delicious, and it made me know that you loved me.  And right there at lunch, I just wanted to tell you that I loved you, too.”

I’m totally keeping that kid.

Except… I know it’s HIS banana peel that has been thrown on my kitchen island countertop right now.

Happy Tuesday, people.  Happy Tuesday.

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