This picture makes my lunch look so lovely. I think it’s the book in the background.
A spread of sun dried tomato hummus on gently toasted Ezekiel bread, plump sliced tomatoes, home grown sprouts with a blanket of red leaf lettuce and a dabble of mustard. Chilled gazpacho made with the finest seasonal vegetables hand selected from a local grower.
Yours for the low price of simply having to request that everyone is dressed (pants at the very least) for our meal together, rise from your seat 10 times to tend to various items like fallen forks and drink refills. You also must shovel the last few bites of corn through the slats of your chair while agreeing to pretend you are feeding an animal in the zoo while saying to yourself dude, fine, whatever it takes to get this kid to eat some vegetables.
OK I’ll pay but I’m NOT leaving a tip.
After our fine dining experience we were off to Ava’s second homeschooled gym class offered at the university right down the street from our house.
Ava charged straight into the building happy and excited to play games with her peers. Maxine on the other hand lagged behind. She refused to walk, demanding to be carried due to a disagreement over the shoes I selected for her as we were leaving the house. Normally she would choose but today I decided for her so we could get out the door.
Maxine and I sat on the sidelines and waited for Ava. Well, it’s more accurate to say that I sat on the sidelines. Maxine complained about her shoes and articulated her displeasure in my choice of footwear for her.
There was crying. There was protesting of my refusal to leave the gym and go home without Ava. More complaints were filed over the shoes.
Finally, I told her – fine, then throw your shoes out, Maxine. Just throw them out if you hate them so much.
I don’t know what makes me say the things that I do. I don’t think I would make a good spy. I say outrageous things under pressure.
The offer to dispose of them took her by surprise. I think that’s what I was aiming for – I was going for shock value and I was successful.
She walked the 50 feet to the trash can (barefoot) with her purple crocs in hand. The formerly beloved favorite purple shoes that I paid $4 for at a consignment store and are on the brink of being too small. She held them over the trash can and turned back to see if I was bluffing.
Go ahead, I confirmed. Throw in them in garbage can. Do it.
And she did.
She walked back to me, decidedly pleased that she was rid of the wretched purple shoes. I, on the other hand was trying to decide if we were really going to leave without those $4 second hand crocs or not. This decision could very easily alter the course of our mother-daughter relationship forever.
Skipping right over the climax of my story, we came home and I got to work making Goddess Averie’s incredibly RAWesome dressing.
Into the food processor went about half cup of soaked raw cashews, 1/3 cup of water, the juice from one lemon, a squeeze of agave, a couple shakes of dill, oregano and basil.
Doused on a dinner salad fit for a the mother of a princess. That must make me a queen, right? Well if I’m a queen then Averie is easily a goddess because this salad dressing totally RAWk’d!
So what do you think? Did I retrieve those shoes from the trash? Or not?