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My pasta calls all the boys to the yard - Ldy, the lemony, ligerish ducttaparian's Magic Treehouse of Lost Thoughts
A classy broad's life... with footnotes.
ldy
ldy
My pasta calls all the boys to the yard
So last night I made lasagna.

I boiled the noodles and lovingly placed them all over my kitchen. I cooked up some sausage, beef, and sauce. I processed a bajillion vegetables. I scooped gobs of ricotta and mozerella cheese over each layer. I misread the instructions (hey, it said use 1/2 the meat, then 1/4 of the meat, then another 1/4 of the meat... how was I to know it meant 1/4 of the remaining meat?) and improvised a solution.

I'd never made lasagna before. But I'll make it again.

Somehow, last night, we had a table set for seven. There was Z, P, Z's mom, and four of Z's friends (we'll call 'em B, J, F and R).

They gobbled it all up. Well, I think out of 24 pieces we have four left. That seems respectable.

There's something truly magical and wonderful about having so much company that you have to extend the table and dig up an extra chair.

We laughed and laughed. It started when B wandered into the house, and then belatedly asked if she could come in. While emphasizing a funny point, she slammed her fist on the counter full of lasagna noodles. Then she went to sit on the other counter full of noodles. Don't hate the pasta, hate the game, B!

And then R was telling us the story about the guy at school who brought him pie and made him soup. The boys ripped on him at every possible juncture. I even slipped one in...

R: Yeah, so I wasn't even alone-- I was standing with these three other girls, and...
C: Wait-- three other girls? R, is there something you want to tell us?

Afterwards, the boys played Halo, and Zack impressed us all with his ninja cat-toy toe-flinging abilities.

It was a blast. I love those kids so much.

It's such a joy helping them make memories.

I'm feeling all kinds of: calm calm
What I hear: Greg Horne - Don't Save The Kisses

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