At least I know where I stand

I finally dragged myself to the commissary today. I've needed to go since Sunday, but I've just been dreading it. I don't really know why either, because I generally love anything involving food so grocery stores/commissaries are generally a highlight of my week.

At any rate, I bought the kids some frozen mac and cheese. I like to buy the individual portions of mac and cheese for a couple of reasons - it's easier overall, and that way I don't have to deal with a bunch of leftovers screaming at me to eat them right now!

Right before T was due home from school, I put two trays in the microwave. When T came in, he saw the box and was quite excited to see what was for lunch. When the microwave dinged, both the kids started jumping up and down and shouting, "Macaroni! Macaroni!" Alllllrighty then. It's a bit disconcerting that they got that excited over mac and cheese, but they're young so I can roll with that.

After I waited the recommended amount of time for the mac and cheese to cool, I opened the microwave to get out the food. The rabid animals, uh, I mean the kids, were literally bouncing around me until I banished them to the table. (I appoint myself the macaroni nazi - Sit! Quiet! Or no macaroni for you!) As I started to lift the first tray out of the microwave, I missed noticing that the cheese had bubbled out of the corners of the two trays and joined them like I'd used superglue. The end result of this was that both trays came out instead of the one I was trying to remove. The plastic film from the second tray remained attached to the first tray, and the second tray dropped to the counter.

Normally, this is where I would describe how the counter, stove, floor, ceiling, cabinets and myself became decorated with mac and cheese. However, the force was with me and there was only a mild cheese splatter on the counter around where the tray landed. Before I could complete my mental praising of the macaroni gods, T rushes over and says, "OH NO! Are you okay?"

Touched that he would be so worried about me, I put my arm around him and hug him and tell him that I'm fine.

Shrugging off my arm, he looks up at me with an exasperated expression. "I wasn't talking to YOU Mom. I was talking to the macaroni."

Naturally....