Taken for Granted

I love being taken for granted -- especially on Saturday nights and Sunday afternoons.

Every Saturday evening, my grandchildren have dinner and spend the night. The den gets an inflatable bed with quilts and pillows and they settle in to have an evening of being spoiled by being allowed to watch almost whatever they want on tv and have a kid-friendly dinner. Once in a while what I think is a kid-friendly meal is a flop, but I try to always have bologna and hot dogs in the frig-a-frater. I made my version of the Duggar's Tater Tot Casserole(half the tater tots, double the ground beef), and it was ok with Kai but made a bigger hit with the adults who sampled it.

After dinner, Joe plays games with Quinn in which she makes up all the rules to fit her fancy; and Kai talks about football and Bakugan and I nod a lot while he beats me at chess, which I never was good at. They race up and down the hallway to see what's on tv in the den, to check out what PapPap's doing in his bedroom, and to wonder if I have a snack for them in the kitchen.

Later Quinn snuggles in to read books and fall asleep while her older brother checks out the football playoffs. Sound asleep by 10 and looking like angels, they have no trouble getting up to go to 8:30 am mass with us where we hand them off to their mom.

"What are you cooking for Sunday dinner?" is a question my kids often ask me. It's not whether I am cooking but what. Lisa and her husband and her chocolate labs usually can only come a couple times a month as they live an hour away but I love it when they do. Fortunately, the back yard is fenced and Daisy can go out on her own, although Lily isn't quilte old enough and ends up cuddling with anyone who can get his hands on her. She's still enough of a puppy to crash about every two hours and whoever ends up with her sleeping on his lap usually gloats.

Laura and her family live so close that they rarely miss a Sunday meal -- after all what working mom wouldn't take advantage of not having to cook a meal and occasionally getting to take leftovers home for lunch next week.

It isn't just having my family over that makes Sunday dinners so much fun. I inflict upon them new receipes and honestly they handle it pretty well. I don't worry about it being kid friendly on Sundays although Kai and Quinn know there is always lunchmeat or bread and peanut butter available. This week it was Paula Deen's barbecue pork roast and some Hawaiian type baked beans -- pork was a hit; beans were probably too sweet for most of them. But no one over the age of nine complained. They didn't have to cook it or even do the dishes.

That's another perk of Sunday dinners; Joe usually goes into the kitchen and proceeds to make so much noise no one can hear themselves talk, but he gets the dishwasher loaded and the "big" stuff washed by hand. He and I disagree on loading the dishwasher. I cram every single thing in, big and small, until there's no room left. I will even run it twice if necessary. He will not put large items into the dishwasher even if there is plenty of room; he'd rather wash them by hand. I really don't mind as long as he's doing the dishes and I'm not.

So being taken for granted isn't all bad, I feel very fortunate that it results in such warm and fun family times.