6/23/2012 I Think Grandma Dropped That On the Floor

When Teddy hit six feet tall last year,
it dawned on me that he was fairly grown up.
So I did what most mothers do when they
are looking up at the baby in the family.
I quit cooking.
I'll haul out a pot or pan
for holidays but that's about it.
My family is still hostile about this
latest development,
but, oh well.
Everyone loves home cooking,
myself included.
I used to think it was odd that Brenda
would gush over my cooking.
I would think,
"Don't all women cook all the time?"
I'm not saying I hate to cook,
I like it.
It's the shopping, prepping
and clean up I hate,
and since no one was fighting to
set or clear the table,
I am over it.
So when I reheated the yummy pot roast
my mother-in-law Suzanne left behind
as she and Troy and Cassie went to
frolic in New York,
I was surprised that Teddy
wasn't digging in.
"Why aren't you eating?" I asked.
He stared at the platter and said,
"I think Grandma dropped it on the floor."
I looked at him and said,
"Why on earth would you say that?!"
He told me that he had found a leaf in
his dinner the night before.
I looked down at my plate and plucked up
a Bay leaf.
"You mean like this?"