Wouldn't You Know It

I did it. I stemmed, skinned, and quartered my tomatoes, just like the recipe said. I covered them and cooked them for 10 minutes until they were tender, just like the recipe said. I set the pan into cold water to cool, just like the recipe said. It all took less than 25 minutes. Simple.

We all sat at the dining room table, the children to colour with felts, and me to read aloud from Sterling North's "Rascal".

Little Man went to the sink to wash his hands. I said, "run the tap into the big sink, because the tomatoes are cooling in the little sink." And he did! Simple.

Then, a few minutes later, I noticed the sound of the tap again. I stood up, looked in the sink and saw a used dishcloth in the pan of stewed tomatoes. I looked closer and saw another used dishcloth beside the first. I broadened my view and saw Brown-Eyed Boy standing at the sink, washing his hands with a third cloth, one edge dangling in the pan, the other carefully rubbing the felt pen marks from his fingers. And I saw that the fill level in the pan was inches higher than I had left it with only stewed tomatoes. Now it had approximately three cups of water in it as well. Ruined.

At least it had been simple.

If it had been complicated or labour intensive, I might have had to cry. As it was I just took a couple of deep breaths, sat back on my chair, closed my eyes for a moment, whispered a prayer for grace, and went on reading Rascal to the children as they coloured.

Simple.