07/29/2007

Is that flour??

Nope. Flour has no allure. That is, in fact, powdered sugar all over the kitchen table, the mixer, and Nathan! And, for those of us who don't have magnifying glasses built-in, Nathan is busy consuming a Jones' family tradition: Potato Candy. Don't be fooled...potato may be the first ingredient to go into the mixing bowl, but it is the smallest quantity ingredient in the recipe. You could pretty much ignore the rest of the ingredients because their dosage is so small in comparison to the 1lb of powdered sugar that the recipe calls for. It makes everything else seem insignificant. But, wouldn't you know it, Nathan adores the stuff! "More?" he asked over and over and over again. This proves, once and for all, that the portion of DNA passed down from Grandpa Jones was the sweet tooth! We will have a well-paid dentist, I'm sure!

I would share this recipe with you all, but supposedly it is a 'secret' family recipe. In fact, I noticed that Nick waited until I was out of the house to start this project. He and Nathan (who supposedly 'helped') were just finishing up when I walked back in the door. I feel no major sense of loss: I tried one piece of this candy and felt the immediate onset of tooth decay and a sugar high. No more for me! Thanks, though. However, Nathan has figured out where the little treasures are being stored, and until they are all consumed, we will have no peace in this household. "More?? More??" We try to ignore him...we pretend to have suddenly been struck by deafness. "More?" he says again...only an octave or two higher and with just a touch of threat in his tone. I glare at Nick thinking that it was his idea to introduce our toddler to this confection. "Moooooooore!!" Nathan isn't asking anymore. He's demanding. Imagine the tears, screaming, and gnashing of teeth that are occurring at this very moment. I overhear Nick saying something along the line of, "Mommy said you can't." Thanks a lot! Blame me for looking out for our son and attempting to prevent child-onset diabetes.

On a totally different note, the cat has had adequate time to make herself at home in our house and has discovered all possible hiding places from Nathan. This is smart. If I could find hiding places from Nathan, I would go to them regularly. However, I'm not small enough to take advantage of the nooks and crannies that Valencia has located. The other night panic set in when I couldn't locate the cat anywhere in the house. I thought perhaps, in a particularly desperate or suicidal moment, she had crawled into the toilet, begged Nathan to flush her down, and given up on living here with us all together. I listened for her little bell (which is tied around her neck), but was met with total silence. Just as I was about ready to call off the search (figuring I would need to wait until Kyle graduated from boot camp and was officially a member of the Navy Search and Rescue), I heard the sweet sounds of someone playing a stringed instrument. My initial reaction was to go introduce myself to the harpist who had obviously just moved in downstairs. Then, moving toward the music, I realized that in actuality, the musician was in my own apartment!

Valencia's delicate paws were stroking the innards of the piano as she readjusted and prepared to continue her nap. Surely this is not at all what the manufacturer had in mind when they sent out another beautiful baby grand piano to be sold by a purveyor of fine instruments. What can I say? I thought it was rather charming and thus snapped a picture before promptly removing her. Come to think of it...I haven't heard her bell for a while...I wonder where she is? I know the first place I'll check!

Nathan sends powdery white kisses to everyone!