Tonight the Big Giraffe made gyros in the rotisserie. I absolutely love gyros and they're impossible to find around here. Good ones that is. I don't eat a lot of meat so that fact that I like gyros so much says a lot. A few years ago as a celebration for finishing organic chemistry for my post-BA program I decided to celebrate by feasting on a gyros. The BG was out of town so I ordered a carryout gyros platter for myself and one for the dog. Unfortunately the gyros was all beef and all gross as far as I was concerned so the dog got an extra big feast.
The gyros were cooking and smelling fantastic. I set the table and got the boys to wash their hands and sit down. They munched on carrot sticks while waiting. The gyros came out. Everyone really liked them. However, despite our feast, eating with the boys was like eating with a three ring circus or perhaps a bunch of cats. There were weird noises, funny voices, insults, temper tantrums, attempts to get up from the table, attempts to eat backwards so as to avoid eye contact with a sibling, tears, timeouts and singing. The last one would be from the BG when he decided to transport himself to another place and began singing Christopher Cross's Sailing. I was not impressed.
Once I brought the Big Giraffe back from never never land, he and I looked at each other in disbelief. What was wrong with our kids? It's not like we never eat together as a family. Then it dawned on me: it was the anticipation of the feast and the fact that it took longer to prepare than anticipated. As a result, we ate a little later. Then I had another realization: this is what Thanksgiving will be like. On second thought, Thanksgiving in the rotisserie may not be so great an idea.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: PB&J for the kids and a glass or two of wine for the BG and me may be critical to preparing for a Thanksgiving feast.Labels: Food (Solid), Holidays, Humor (at least Attempted) |
mmmm gyros