Dinner is in the oven. Woohoo! I am on the ball. Wednesday nights are a tad crazy, though less so now that soccer season is over. Okay, all nights are a tad crazy, soccer or no soccer.
We are having quiche. "Quiche!" said my 3.5 year old daughter when she found out what I was making, "I love quiche!"
And now the word quiche is looking so funny to me. The word peace did that to me the other day. But now peace is back to normal.
I hope the quiche turns out. Whether the word looks funny or not, I always just throw stuff together for my quiche and then wait and see. Thanks to my French Education. Which was lovely. And survived some strikes. Oh, la.
I am rather proud of myself for making decent dinners three nights in a row. Maybe we'll have tacos tomorrow night. And Friday night is usually pizza night, mostly homemade. But not by me. By the true cook of the family: Ben. Hooray for Ben. Who cleaned the kitchen for me yesterday.
That did not look funny to me at all. It looked, actually, heavenly. I was happy about the clean counter tops all evening.