Company's Coming

When Megan ran home for a quick lunch today, she noted the nicely set table,

the lasagna I was working on,

the homemade rolls rising on the counter,

a salad with a vinegar pomegranate dressing stolen borrowed off of Judy's blog,

 and a Costco pumpkin cheesecake in the fridge. Dessert on a Wednesday night? Megan knew I was up to something. 

But I think it was the kitchen floor I had mopped in the middle of the day instead of AFTER the messy grandkids left that made Megan say, "The missionaries are coming for supper!"  Yes, Megan, I'm giving you the opportunity to compare P Dubya to REAL men.  You're welcome.

I must say, some of the females of the house were spectacularly under impressed by my gourmet cooking.  Makayla turned her nose up at everything but the extra pomegranate seeds, swiss cheese, and bacon bits from the salad. 

And Hailey preferred to gobbled up Smarties and Dots

 collected from a Halloween party earlier that day.

Guess what kind of exotic cuisine they're getting tomorrow?

You forget (thankfully) how much more preparation company takes when you have little children underfoot.

 and how the rocks little hands washed up in the bathroom sink and you've learned to ignore may seem a little, well, ODD to company.

 or that pile of shredded plants you left for Hailey to clean up (after all, she's the one who put it there) may send the message you're asleep at the neat-freak wheel.

At least I know the answer to the question, "What is that smell??"
(and it isn't the lasagna)