...on a Saturday morning...
...when Father of the Year and general all around good guy Misiu takes the kids to the pool.
That's a long title, but the original one was much longer.
First thoughts when husband packs up the kids and takes them to the pool is OMG I can get sooo much done - laundry, cooking, nails, whatever I want. But I should also do something in the garden, and the windows could do with a cleaning, and I haven't even peeked in the attic for ages. So that's me 15 minutes later sucking back my second coffee, catching up on my YouTube watching, not giving a crap about any of the stuff mentioned above.
On to Plan B, I shall combine YouTube watching with cooking, or something similar to cooking - spaghetti and a sauce that the kids picked out at the local grocery store last night. Despite our American heritage, we are not a ready sauce kind of a family. After checking the list of ingredients for trans fats and various E's and finding none, we agreed on a sauce. While watching Fatfighters International, I mix up the dinner for my hungry swimmers and discover something terribly wrong with that sauce. I then whip off an email to the producer in Polish stating that something is either seriously wrong with their recipe or the whole batch of sauce is spoiled. I probably shouldn't be left alone.
As I prepare to dispose of the offensive dinner (in the slop trough of the neighbor's pigs), I decide to leave it for the fam to decide if it's just me or if the sauce is off. Pigs can eat spaghetti, right?
Plan C involves actually getting dressed, but not after I take a long and relaxing bath sans interruptions. Plan C is delayed as the power has unexpectedly gone out as it does at least 5 times a week here in the Village. No power means no hot water. No hot water, means no bath. No power also means no wifi. No wifi means no YouTube. No worries as I have a hot cup of coffee and my Kindle. Oh, the power is back - bath time.
Fam is still not back. I shall enjoy the bathroom all to myself and actually put on some makeup...on a Saturday. Quite a useless activity, but a fine opportunity to practice my kreska without little people bumping me while brushing their teeth and sending my kreska all the way back to my ear. Full makeup terribly clashes with my messy bun and Saturday t-shirt and sweatpants. They are new sweatpants straight from the fall collection, but I must say even the kreska cannot class them up.
Fam is back and sit down to the offensive spaghetti dinner. I say nothing as Rosie immediately declares the sauce inedible. Lizzie takes a bite and also declares something wrong with the sauce. Misiu tastes his portion and agrees that the sauce is a bit off and proceeds to eat his plate of spaghetti and the spaghetti left by the kids. The soup is never too salty in our house.
This post is sponsored by Lizzie who by quitting soccer has inadvertently signed herself up for Saturday morning swimming.