For the first time in several weeks, our weekend wasn't completely crammed with activity. In celebration, I cooked a steak dinner. Now, I have a theory that there is an inverse relationship between how much energy/enjoyment I put into a meal and how much my kids will eat of it. Despite this firmly held and well tested theory, I forged ahead and steamed some asparagus and topped it with lemon butter, mixed sauteed mushrooms, onions and currants into the quinoa and grilled up three of the Delmonico steaks from our winter meat order. It all looked and smelled delicious. I sat down at the table with a lovely looking plate and nice glass of wine completely convinced that my kids would spend their 15 minutes at the table whining and complaining.
Amazingly my children had been replaced by two cute little aliens who thoroughly enjoyed the repast I had thoroughly enjoyed preparing. The little girl martian ate three helpings of steak, and the toddler spaceboy couldn't shovel in the quinoa fast enough.
Dave and I, clearly the only Earthlings at the table, spent the whole meal in a state of slack-jawed shock at this bizarre outcome. After "Kara" asked for her second helping of steak, I turned to Dave and asked, "What the hell is going on here?"
I have no idea how to account for this strange turn of events, but it will go down as one of the best dinners ever. Best ever!