Third of July

Before it was the Fourth of July, it was the Third of July, a quiet Sunday evening with not a whole lot to do. I have tried to get in the habit of making dinner Sunday evenings. Elise has been having a few family sessions on Sunday afternoons, so I like to try and make a special dinner for her when she comes home. Though she didn’t have a photo shoot, she had requested ‘special quesadillas’ for dinner.

I haven’t made special quesadillas since we’ve been in Brazil, and, in the past, when Elise has requested special quesadillas, I’ve groaned in protest, because the special quesadilla is probably one of the most labor-intensive quesadillas ever made. But this time, I happily acquiesced.

Usually when I make special quesadilla I only have enough time and patience to make one, for Elise, and end up just throwing the remainder of the quesadilla fixins in a bowl for myself, because a lot of work has gone into the special quesadilla before any actual quesadilla-grilling has taken place.

The special quesadilla consists of sautéed onions and mushrooms, red bell pepper strips, mango, cilantro, goat cheese and grilled chicken. Okay, so when I write it out, it doesn’t sound like much, but believe me, it’s a lot of work.

I made the boys’ dinner beforehand, rice, not-so-special cheese quesadilla and broccoli. They ate, and Elise kept me company in the kitchen as I slaaaaaaved over the special quesadilla prep.

In a vain attempt to postpone eating his mango, Sam piped up, to no one in particular. Pointing at Elise and then I, “You and you are best friends.”

“When Mommy feels sad, Daddy helps her feel better.”

Sam still wouldn’t eat his mango, so Elise reached for her iPhone where she had recorded—only a few weeks prior—Sam saying, “I like mango.”

No go. He still wouldn’t eat his mango even though he had just heard himself say he liked it.

To me, “How long you going to be here?”

“A long time, Punny. I’m not going anywhere for a long time.” Then added, “You’re going to want to get rid of me long before I’m going to want to get rid of you.”

Serious, “I don’t want to get rid of you, Daddy.”

I smiled at Elise and said, “You need to get that on tape.”

He never did eat his mango, but he eats broccoli (what 3 year-old eats broccoli?!?), so I didn’t push it.