After a busy Saturday which ended up with another heated game of Taboo (men vs. women, which the men badly lost), the Diplomat and I decided to go to a pretty local park and BBQ. We envisioned hours of gazing into each others eyes, holding hands while watching our prodigy frolicking in the grass and delighting us with his angelic smile and cherubic laughter, the meat sizzling on the grill and abundant family happiness gagging those passing by us.
After shopping for provisions at Harris Teeter, the Diplomat made the fatal mistake of buying 2 fresh out of the oven baguettes, which I proceed to eat ravenously in the car on the way to the park. BY the time we got there, I was not hungry anymore.
Once we got there, we faced another problem: the charcoal required paper to be ignited (we have brought an entire issue of the Financial Times for the purpose), but the paper needs to be saturated with "vegetable oil." I have forgotten said oil. After giving me blood-curdling look (so much for the gazing thing), the Diplomat leaves to forrage for flammable material. I continue my meager attemps to light the damn charcoal by stacking twigs around it, while Son prances around me and tries to stick his hands in the fire. Finally, I manage to produce a small flame, which requires my absolutely undivided attention. At that moment, Son announces he needs to go "poopy." I say good-bye to the budding flame and go to help. Since I was not entirelly convinced I was supposed to leave his, um, results lying in the grass but was also unwilling to pack them up for the time being, I decided to cover it with a napkin. Son, however, was having nothing of the kind--he produly screeched all over the park, "BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIG POOOOOOOOPPYYYY" and even pointed out the napkin to passers-by. I scuttled back to the grill, only to discover that my tiny flame was all gone.
Luckily, the Dipomat then came back, proudly bringing lighter fluid. We generously douse the coal with it and all of a sudden, with a loud "whoosh" the coal is on fire. For 12 seconds. Then it is all out again. We douse again (yes, I KNOW we are not supposed to do that--we were a wee bit desperate at the time, ok?), and then again. With a resentful hiss, the charcoal always went off. I think it was bullet proof.
Defeated, we returned home and grilled out on the gas grills in our building's courtyard. Then I put Son to bed and took a nap myself--family time is exhausting!
All in all, the weekend was very satisfying. We spent another pantload at Bed, Bath and Beyond, but worry not, I saved an entire $7.50 thanks to coupons! What is it about BB&B? Have you noticed that every time you go there, you get so lost in all the neatly arranged merchandise, that you walk dazed among the shiny kitchen gadgets and think--"Potato ricer! Dear Lord, how ever did I manage to live my life without it?? Ahh! Little corn holders--a MUST have for a decent household! Egg rings--I have no idea what those are for but I feel I ought to just have them!" and then you leave the store as a proud owner of a new pasta-making machine, tortilla press, asparagus peeler, lemon reamer and herb scissors and wonder what just happened. I promise will not go back for at least a month. Only then I can afford to return for a second look at that mango splitter.
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