I started the process at 4:30pm, planning to eat around 6pm. I tried to clean up as I went, but the amount of skillets required alone had me knee deep in dishes before I was halfway done.
I had almost perfectly timed the completion of all dishes when Rob walked in the door. I even had the table set... with place mats! (That is noteworthy. Sad.) The kids were famished, and by the time everyone made it to the table Robbie and Ellie would have cannibalized one another if I'd let them. Maddie had waited patiently in her high chair as I cooked, playing with toys, but by the time I started serving dinner she began to whine for her bottle. And the girl never makes a fuss.
There must be a term for this - like a Mother's Murphy's Law: the amount of time you spend preparing a dinner to eat together as a family is inversely related to how well that dinner will actually go, how much food will be consumed, and how pleasurable the experience will be.
I never even sat down to eat. I literally took 3 bites of my omelet while it rested in the skillet as I cleaned the dishes, and picked at the tater tots while I wiped hands. Robbie spilled his cup of orange juice and most of Ellie's eggs landed on the just-cleaned floor. Such is life.
Lesson learned. And so...
Leftover already-cooked ziti noodles and sauce I just made in 5 minutes on the stove (brown 1 lb of italian sausage, dump in a can of san marzano tomatoes with the juices, break them all apart, add basil and oregano and simmer).
If the law holds true, tonight will be a dream. And that's what I'm hoping for since it's a solo parenting night!