Not Everyone Can Cook Like Me

Papa came into town for the first time in 6 years. Papa is my grandpa on my mother's side and he and I have always had a really special bond. I look up to him more than I can express and he has taught me what it truly means to serve and love your spouse. I watched him lovingly take care of his wife up until the very end. This was not always an easy task, but he rose to the challenge and I will always admire him for the way that he loved her.

After Tutu's (my grandma's) passing, my mom convinced him to join her at her house for a couple of weeks and we were lucky to have him agree. During his visit, he came to our church to see the kids in their Primary Program and we had him over to dinner a couple of times. The first time he came over I made a concerted effort to have everything be just so. I cleaned the house and prepared a particularly yummy dinner...which included homemade garlic breadsticks and lasagna.
While the lasagna was cooking, I made the breadsticks



(which turned out perfectly, by the way) and Papa let the kids create a stuffed animal extravaganza all around him. James and Anne had a wonderful time posing the animals 'just so' and then getting their pictures taken. Papa was, of course, as patient and loving as ever.




Even Philip had a great time playing with Papa.




Once the lasagna was finished cooking, I removed it from the oven and set it on the counter. At least, that is what I had planned in my mind.

In reality, once the lasagna was finished cooking, I removed it from the oven and then promptly dropped the entire thing on the floor. No...I am not kidding. It was cooking in one of those flimsy metal pans and the whole thing just bent in half from the weight of the lasagna and I couldn't stop it from falling to the ground below. Here I was trying to show my Papa what a mature, responsible mother I had become and instead I dropped his dinner on the floor.




As you can see, most of the cheese and the sauce was lost on the floor, so the only thing remaining of the lasagna was the noodles. Luckily, my mom, husband, and Papa were all very kind about the whole thing and they all suggested that we eat it anyway. I sprinkled the top with some new cheese, dumped a bunch of spaghetti sauce over the top and served my masterpiece for dinner.

In the end, I guess I am still the little girl dying for approval from the adults that I adore. On this night, I learned that the only thing I have to do to gain their approval is to be myself. I don't have to be the best cook or the most accomplished mother. I only have to be me and that is enough...failed dinners and all.