Lasagna Wars

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Collette hadn’t seen Puck bring the mini bugle – which was somewhat effective at still working – into church. When she walked past two people talking in the foyer, something about, “That’s quite the welcome committee at the door there…” she needed no further explanation. Trumpeting to the entering crowds besides Dad, the greeter of the morning at the door… was exactly what she had expected.
During the meet-and-greet, Anneliese pulled over a new friend with her to visit Puck for 30 seconds. When Puck marched up, Anneliese, in ponytail and blue and white flower dress, excitedly waved a flappy hand at him and quickly put two arms around his neck in greeting. Puck, again, wasn’t sure what to do.
The Sunday School hour was spent, for Collette, speaking briefly first with Oluva Cross about genealogy (including members of Oluva’s family crossing over during the Irish potato famine), with Mollie about artistic photos of African mangos, knitting, home schooled-ness, 27 copies of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants strewn around a walking path for no particular reason, and many etc. – and for OLeif, chatting with a visiting Italian gentleman.

Back on the ranch, everyone, except for Rose, who had finished enough travels for the week, was gathered over lasagna and salad. Joe was just waking up after a two AM encounter with the movies.
Puck had shared some thoughts with Francis…
“You know, God can see through your shoes… and mirrors…”
“He can see through mirrors,” Francis repeated. “That’s a pretty cool thought. You know. For a little guy.”
As the meal progressed, and Francis still fiddled with the pool of tomato sauce on his plate… Francis and Linnea weren’t so interested in lasagna…
“Yesterday I went in to Mom’s room and she was sleeping with her eyes open,” Carrie was saying.
“I was not,” Mom protested, laughing.
“Well, I thought she was dead. I was going to start poking her with a stick.”
“All I can think of us Muppets Treasure Island,” said OLeif.
Carrie agreed…
“We’re in the same room as a dead guy!”
Dinner was concluding. Francis and Linnea still had “stacks” of lasagna on their plates. Dad commanded that they not leave their seats until all the lasagna was finished. At word of this development, The Peanut Gallery (i.e. Carrie and Joe), began egging them on from the kitchen table…
“They hate me,” Carrie nodded at them, grinning.
– She got busy making faces and blowing kisses to Francis and Linnea. –
“Guess what?” she continued. “Tomorrow I’m going to make lasagna pizza with lasagna soup and lasagne cookies…”
“Look,” said Joe. “It’s like five year-olds refusing to eat. It’s so cute.”
“Hey, Francis. If you eat all the food on your plate, I’ll give you a big star on your star chart!” Carrie added.
“Hey, Francis, if you finish your lasagna, I’ll take you to Wal-Mart and buy you a Hot Wheel car!” Joe went on.
“How ’bout I use some of this tomato sauce and fling it all over there?” Francis suggested, incapable of holding back yet another grin.
“Oh, oooooooh,” The Peanut Gallery responded, waggling their fingers at the two lasagna criminals.
“Pretty soon, Francis is going to be sitting there so long, he’ll have Book Butt,” Carrie laughed.
While Carrie and Joe got busy chanting “Book Butt! Book Butt! Book Butt!”, Dad joined the two armies to institute mediation.
“Well,” Francis retorted. “That’s all I do at work anyway. My job is sitting in a chair.”
Ties between Francis and Linnea were beginning to wear thin as the hour dragged on. Dad intervened to check their progress at the plates, and Francis began an attempted negotiation with him in return. Linnea cut in.
“Stop, Linnea. You’re ruining my argument.”
“Boom. The alliance is broken,” Joe laughed.
“I’m not in an alliance with Linnea,” Francis protested.
Things reached their pitch when Joe switched a mournful violin on his iPhone and serenaded Francis with it.
“We could make a film here,” said Carrie. “Fade into Francis and his sad face. Fade into the lasagna…”
Francis took off chasing Joe, both boys laughing, until Dad cut him off.
“Ok, Joe, turn it off,” Dad instructed.
“What? I’m just listening to music. I find it… melancholy.”
Something about “dork club” from Carrie…
Finally, the Victory over Dish was complete, and Francis rewarded himself by digging into the tub of vanilla ice cream in the freezer.

While Mom and Dad napped, Puck took off after Joe…
“Let’s go spider hunting!”
He was also interested in determining “which bug had made grandma sick”. He raced inside for a book of insects, namely ladybugs.

When Mom and Dad woke an hour later, Carrie attempted finding further trouble for Francis. Experiment Number One commenced…
“Dad, you should have Francis bring up that gooey butter cake he’s hording down there.”
“I didn’t know we had gooey butter cake.”
“You should go ask him about it.”
Dad walked downstairs.
Carrie’s wiggling eyebrows spoke otherwise in that, clearly, there was no gooey butter cake, and never had been.
“I wonder how long this confrontation is going to last,” said Carrie after awhile. “Dad’s probably like, ‘Give me the gooey butter cake, Francis.’ And Francis says, ‘What gooey butter cake?’ ‘Give it to me. I know you have it.’ ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Snicketts.’…”
Francis came up the stairs a few minutes later…
“Where’s Dad?”
“Didn’t you see him down there?”
“Nope.”
“Where’s the gooey butter cake, Francis?”
“I don’t… know?”
For a brief moment it seemed that Carrie had almost convinced Francis that he had the imagined cake in his possession.
“Go find it.”
Francis went downstairs.
Carrie pressed her fingers together in a super villain way…
“My plans are coming together,” she smiled wickedly.
Mom walked through next…
“Hey, Mom. Francis is hogging all the gooey butter cake.”

The idea had been to take a ride into wine country. However…
If it wasn’t for three nails in the brand new tire on the big old green thing…
So while Dad and the boys patched up the tire before Joe left to help Pooch move stuff and Dad wheelbarrowed the tornado siren to the back shed, Mom reminisced about her grandparents. Great Grandpa Combs – Worshipful Master and party animal. Great Grandma Combs – grown up an orphan. Great Grandma Jewel – fantastic cook – including cheeseburgers. Great Grandpa Jewel – you couldn’t say anything bad about Elvis to his face, or about anyone who loved their mama. Also loved the Native American people, as a nation.
OLeif toted Puck around the grass in the long orange winter sled until the tike joined Linnea under the old swing tree to compose medleys of mud clay. And soup. Puck’s arms and legs were slathered in their original recipe.
And Mom and Carrie hit up the grocery store.
Some Sundays were as lazy as Saturdays.

So in there end, there was ravioli for the troops.
A Cards victory of the Twins, 9-2. Seven game winning streak. First place in the National League, even if it didn’t count yet.
And rough-and-tumble hour back home for OLeif and Puck, who had manipulated Collette’s long striped socks up to his knees.