Hey Babe, what's for lunch?

Bert has asked me this question nearly every day for 8 1/2 years. Every. Single. Day. Do you know how many times I have ever cooked LUNCH during those 8 1/2 years?? Zero. Zilch. Nada.
But yet, he still calls and asks. Wishful thinking maybe.


Bert's a great husband and wonderful Father, so I hate to pick on him too much.
He has become a blankie of sorts to Hail, who never got attached to anything but a passie (and lately a bottle). A while back, Hail decided that he loved to squeeze Bert's ear lobes when he was sleepy. He can't fall asleep at night without them. And, that's how we know he's ready for a nap during the day, he starts squeezing the ear lobes of anyone near by. For some reason though, he mostly prefers Bert's and will ask for him if he's not home. "I'm sweepy. Where Daddy go?"


Bert's also the Head of the Bath Department. Not an easy task at our house. We tag-team this aerobic exercise every night-- while Bert bathes all five kids, I lay out their pj's and get ready to dress them. It's much like a bath time assembly line of sorts.


It doesn't really bother me that he calls and asks about lunch every day. I just don't understand why he thinks I'm suddenly going to prepare a 3 course meal, when I've never once done it.

So today when I got that phone call, as Bert drove home for lunch, I laughed as I looked around the house and thought about our morning. I was still in my pajamas, even though I had a spit-up stain on my shoulder. Only two of the four boys were dressed, one of which still in his pj's. Hail was totally naked and Lightning was in his undies. It's a rainy, cold day. There are 18 loads of laundry to be folded, and at least 17 waiting to be washed. Thunder wet his bed last night, so those sheets and blankets are piled up in the hallway, marked for urgent care. There's at least half a box of Cheerios spilled in the dinning room, along with an empty bag of Doritos and box of Cheeze-its. All the couch cushions are piled up in the middle of the living room amongst the super hero figurines and other toys and books. The bottom rack of the dishwasher had been stolen from its place, and used as a "jail" for the bad guys that the super heroes were chasing after. Cake crumbs from the birthday party we attended last night were scattered all over the kitchen table.

So today when my phone rang, I didn't even give him the chance... I answered the phone,
"Hey Babe, what's for lunch?"