The Fire Alarm means Dinner is Ready

The fire alarm went off at the dinner hour today and the matriarch came down expecting her meal to be ready.

"I heard the dinner bell." But, the table wasn't set and the food wasn't ready and the children were still out in the garden. But, the matriarch sat down anyhow and wondered where everyone was and what was going on.

"Am I the only one eating tonight?"

Bacon set the fire alarm off, frying bacon. Not burning, frying bacon. Just bacon.

My husband told the matriarch dinner was almost ready and called the children into the house because he knows a crowd of hungry children, his mother and he are bound to make the food cook faster and my already frustrated life so much easier.

And, the phone rang.

"Whose answering the phone? Is it for me?"

The matriarch has her own phone line--so, no, it wasn't for her and I did not answer it because I wanted to get the meal on the table. Pasta shouldn't be so hard; but, of course, it was because one of my children answered the phone and gave it to me as I was serving out the plates. Why do the children never pass the phone to their father? Because telemarketers ask for the person whose name is on the Hudson's Bay/ Zellers credit card, that is why.

The matriarch did not like her dinner; pushing her plate away after one rib, she immediately wanted dessert. Chocolate fudge pudding. With lots of milk on it. And a cup of tea. Did I mention I was still eating? My husband started laughing which was no help at all. I got my middle child who was finished to serve dessert and make tea. Then, everyone evacuated the table and I was left with dirty dishes and the matriarch scraping her bowl of pudding.

"I guess I'll see you later," she said to me as, finally, she went upstairs to her room, "unless you're making a snack. No need to ring the bell, I'll just come down."