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Sunday, October 16, 2016

My own Pdub

Lets set the scene:

We just got back from our last camping season of the year which means.... an astronomical amount of laundry - clothes, sheets, blankets.  Dishes weren't done before we left.  Emptied school bags and papers littered the tables and counters.  Holly and Jake created the biggest train track you ever did see all over my living room floor.  The house was in shambles, I had a headache I couldn't shake and on the way home Holly screamed the whole time that she was sick and promptly crashed as soon as she hit the couch.  It was definitely one of those 'adulting is hard' moments. 

Enter Bree.

"Mom, can I make dinner?"

Now you would think this was one of those 'the sky opened and the angels started singing' moments but instead it was like nails on the chalkboard.  One day, not too long ago, dear Bree wanted to make breakfast for hubby and I.  When completed, we headed out to the table to discover bowls of cold home canned tomatoes with an asinine amount of salt and a few sprinkles of cheese.  Having to stomach a similar dinner when I just wanted to check out as a parent, plunged my stomach to my feet.

However.  I was pleasantly surprise when she pulled out our beloved Pioneer Woman cookbooks and began scanning the pages.  She, on her own accord, decided that we were having meatloaf for dinner!  With little help,  deciding on the side dishes (curly fries instead of mashed potatoes, broccoli as the veggie, and cheesecake for dessert) the list was made, shopping was done, and my little pdub started on her task.

We feasted with minimal complaints from other family members...

... and lived to tell the tale.  But the most important lesson to be learned that day was - When you slave over making a meal for the entire family, you appreciate someone else cleaning it up.

And so the boys did. 

Pioneer Woman's Bacon Wrapped Meatloaf

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