meal-time mania

Until recently I had no idea that I should be afraid of the pressure cooker. I didn't in fact even know my life was at risk. But supposedly it is. Ask your mother or mother's mother and she may tell you a horror story or two about the exploding pressure cooker. I have one because every household in India does (think of an American home without a washing machine, or a coffee pot). I have been fearlessly using one (maybe that's naive) for the last three years. Potatoes, rice, lentil soups, meats, pastas, you name it cook in a matter of minutes and save me oodles of time. I can't imagine a happy home without it.

On the other hand, Shane and Luke are not happy at all in this home with the pressure cooker.

Last evening I was preparing dinner. Luke on my hip (his happy-place) and Shane investigating every nook and cranny in the corners of the kitchen as my husband supervised. The pressure cooker was mounting in pressure. I needed a second hand to chop so Luke was passed to Ben. At that moment the "whistle" (but more like a loud steam whoosh!) shot from the cooker. Startled, Luke clutched at Ben with both hands and turned into a ball of tears. The cooker let off another loud "whoooosh". Tears, tears and more tears. Ben was holding weeping crocodile-tears Lukas in the other room when I ushered Shane, now also in tears into Ben's reach. I headed back into the kitchen.

From the living room the "We hate the pressure cooker" song began. Loudly (though melodically I must say) and even louder than the crying. Shane's head buried in daddy and Luke disgusted with us all. The end of the day, hungry boys, loud whooshings, crying big brother, and a weeping little one in daddy's arms. It doesn't get any better than this.The crying did stop, but meal time didn't get any calmer. There was rice on faces and a cranky baby refusing to be happy as he opened his mouth like a starving bird. There was a daddy trying to coax chicken into the big brothers mouth who was spitting it out, and me saying "calm down, everyone just calm down," and bibs not catching any food at all, and "all done all done all done" chantings, and a daddy chasing a big brother around the table while a mommy sat with one hand on the baby's leg and the other hand searching for any leftover's for her own meal.

It was one of those moment's you can't get frustrated about because it's actually kinda funny. I mean not funny that the kids first got scared then got hyper, but funny because it's all just so ridiculous.

Meal-time mania. Just a friendly reminder that sometimes you just gotta manage the situation instead of trying to fix it. We'll do it again tonight!