Wednesday, November 17, 2010

my own lunch

It's lunchtime.

I quarter grapes and tomatoes, shred some cheese and butter toast. I pour milk and slice apples and cut more grapes to replace what has already disappeared. Then more cheese.

A moment of silence. Everyone is satisfied. {For now.}

An inner voice. What would I be eating right now, if I was alone? If I had all the time in the world?

I usually hodgepodge my own lunch. But I don't want the uneaten scraps from these plates. Not a quick bowl of cottage cheese. Not peanut butter and jelly, even.

Today is dreary and cold and just right for a serving of something warm. Something no one else would eat but me.

Chopping would only take a couple seconds. The saute would be done in no time. And the extra dishes? Would round out this pile so nicely. Just make it. 

So I do. I chop and stir between refills of grapes and cheese. Soon the teapot is whistling and the frying pan is sending up the sounds and smells of a gentle sizzle.

It's done. The chai steams next to a plate of soft russian kale and onions. It looks amazing. I sit.

But the baby is through with her meal {Nah. Naah. NAAAAAAH!!!} so I wipe her down and release her from her chair. She takes everything out of the tupperware cupboard. The mess is fine with me. I'm finally eating and these are bites of heaven. Straight out of a day I lived just for me.

I'm practically licking my plate when it becomes clear that we better head for naptime or no-return.  So I get up, leaving my nearly full cup of tea to cool.

But I don't mind. It can be reheated.