How to free a fridge of that last half a chocolate torte: slice it into tiny pieces, splay them out artfully on two paper plates like the finest hors d’ouvres (that’s Horse Doovres to those in the know–family joke), and take them to a Linger Longer potluck held after church.
How to get the kids to eat their veggies: line up the tables end-to-end before the kids are set free, with the tops beautifully arranged but in only veggies and dip so that when the kids get out of their Primary classes hungry, that’s all they see there is to eat. After a suitable interval of snackage, bring out the rolls, the ham and the cheese, and, note to self that corned beef is a good idea on many occasions anyway; a thank you to those whose traditions dictate it be eaten in March. Good thinking.
I looked over and there was suddenly a scrum of small bodies going on at a particular point in the setup. I knew instantly what was up, especially when adults were gathering in, too: someone had decided enough healthy food had been consumed by that point that it was safe to bring out the heretofore-hidden desserts from the kitchen. (And I had been in that kitchen earlier, looking for mine; I mean it when I say dessert had been hidden. Those moms did a good job!)
By the time I got over to the table, curious, there was an only barely large enough crumb left for forensic certainty that that had indeed been one of my plates.
I had one last tiny piece sneaked away in my fridge at home. It was very, very good.
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“Forensic certainty”–HAHAHAHA. At home I smush those crumbs together into as large a crumbball as possible and remove all evidence. Of course, that can’t be done in public.
Comment by LynnM 03.15.10 @ 1:38 amHorse Doovres, eh? And here I thought our family was the only one that had that insider joke. Except we spelled Horse Doovers. A minor consideration.
I assume that by now you know that kids of any age can sniff out desserts from miles away! (And speaking of chocolate tortes, my birthday is in June.
Fun –
I was helping a friend of mine with his roadside farm stand when a man stopped by and asked how much the eggs were.
“Sixty cents for the small, 70 cents for the medium, 90 cents for the large and 30 cents for the cracked ones,†I answered. “All right,†he said, “crack me a dozen of the large ones.â€
yum! sounds like the mom’s in your ward have got it down to a fine science — good on them!! for certain it avoids the crash and burn of kids on a sugar high
Comment by Bev 03.15.10 @ 9:17 amLet there be delight would have also worked… Maybe?
Comment by Suzanne in Montreal 03.15.10 @ 10:52 amThe secret to generously parting with indulgent baked goods – keeping one last piece safe at home. I love it! Your wisdom shines through yet again.
Comment by twinsetellen 03.15.10 @ 6:52 pmI love church potluck lunches. 🙂
I am so glad to hear you saved yourself a piece of that cake.
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