Food Network Here I Come

I keep trying to tell God that I am humble, really I am. Apparently, He does not agree.

Tonight we invited our parish seminarian and Nelson’s office mate over for dinner. In preparation for the evening I plowed through the kitchen after lunch today and gathered a sizeable pile of Nelson's stuff to relegate to the garage. Unfortunately, Nelson had my car along with every spare key to the garage. No problem, I thought, I'll just whisk it out there before the guests arrive.

I began chopping away and before I knew it, it was crunch time. Right in the thick of it Dawson awakes and I have to take time out to calm him enough to put him down and begin again. After resuming the cooking, I hear screams from Aiden as he was waking up. Seems he was having a bad dream. "I had a hard nap," he cried. And, he wanted me to hold him.

As I was explaining that I had to cook dinner and I couldn't hold him, Dawson came in and joined the whine fest begging for pudding. I told Aiden to get them both a slice of cheese hoping that would tide them over. Instead more crying ensued as they fought over the cheese.

When both began pulling at my leg, I resorted to saying, "Please take your cheese and go watch TV." Now I'm looking at the clock thinking there's no way it's going to be ready in time and in walks Nelson. I greeted him quickly and put him to work and asked Mackenzie, for the fourth time, to set the table.

With all of us working we stood a small chance I thought as I looked around at the complete mess my kitchen had become between the meal and the kids. The boys were now screaming loudly and chasing each other down the hall in hysterics. At least they're entertaining themselves, I had the boldness to assume just as Dawson came screeching into the kitchen.

Then it happened. CRASH! Right into the laundry room door. THUD! As he hit the ground. And of course that cry. You know the one. When you know they're not just playing around or looking for attention, they're hurt.

I was comforting him when I saw the blood over his eye. I applied pressure for a bit and then really looked at it to discover it was more than a mere scratch, it was a gash. Suddenly I had visions of a burned dinner and disastrous house while I'm sitting in an ER somewhere waiting for stitches.

A quick call to my mom (the nurse) saved me the trip. I bandaged him up until she could get there and went on with dinner. Then, of course, the doorbell rang.

In walks this poor seminarian to the aftermath of a big boo-boo. He gets the hyped up version of the kids and all the details of the accident while Nelson and I frantically try to pull together dinner.

As we sat down to eat, I noticed the gigantic pile of stuff still sitting by the door, the dishes everywhere, along with the toys, and an unchecked set table with small forks. After we finished eating, my mom brought some butterfly stitches that we all watched her apply while Dawson screamed.

It was over dessert that we discovered that Jorge was one of 12 children. Suddenly, I relaxed. Surely he was used to noise and chaos with that stat. And you know what? Dinner still tasted good and he seemed to enjoy himself, even as he stepped over toys to go out the door.

So okay, it wasn't perfect. Certainly, not the peaceful dinner I had envisioned. Another opportunity to be humbled.

But... now that I'm reflecting on it, I'm thinking maybe I shouldn't be embarrassed but proud that I did it considering all that happened. In fact, I feel pretty courageous for inviting him over in the first place.

I think I'm going to call the Food Network and offer them an idea for a new show. Something along the lines of how to produce a decent dinner with kids under foot while your house is on fire without burning anything. Yeah...let's see Rachel Ray do that in 30 minutes or less!