Cooking up a Legacy

I don't know where this post is going. Hopefully it will make some sense when I am done.

I was thinking the other day about a conversation Boo and I had while we were in the car. She is into wedding plans lately. Sometimes she is telling me to keep something, so we can use it in her wedding. Sometimes she discusses who will be her flower girls. Sometimes she tells me how she wants her hair, or her dress, or her gloves. Etc. Being that we teach the college and career Sunday school class at church (AKA - the "Singles" class) we tend to go to a lot of weddings. Obviously, Boo is taking notes.

When she really started thinking about all of this, she started asking when she would get married. We generally tell her that when she is ready to move out of our house and live with her husband, then she will be ready to get married. The thought of moving out of our house isn't such a nice one for her. So, every once in a while she says, "Mom, I am not going to get married." I usually respond with a simple, "Okay."

But, she was back to her planning in the car the other day, when she said, "Mom, after you get married, when do your mom and dad come?" I hadn't yet realized that she was asking about herself, and I started to explain that I already was married. She said, "No, when I get married, when will you and dad come?"

"Do you mean come over for a visit?" I asked.

"Yeah."

Well, whenever you want to invite us over we will be happy to come over. She asked a bunch of questions about what we'd do, then started asking about how far away we'd live.

I responded with my standard "I don't know. You and your husband will have to decide where you will live."

She paused a second and said, "I want to live close to you. Maybe we could live in the house next to you." We went on to discuss the different things we could do together during our visits.

Inside, I was laughing. I am planning to remind her of those words some day, and I know she will laugh at them too. Oh my!

But, down in my heart I was thinking, how precious. Thank you, Lord.

I don't know how this happened. This child loves me like a child should - she can't imagine life without her mom and dad. Part of me was thinking, has she forgotten how mean I am to her sometimes? Gosh. I mess up so bad with her sometimes. (I generally do a good job - but man, when I mess up, I MESS UP!) So I was just driving along thinking about how nice it would be to have a grown-up daughter who still wants to be with me.

So, as I pray this through, I started thinking I should pray for God's grace so I'd know how to raise her to be my friend. But, after more thought, I think it is more appropriate to pray that He'd train me to be her friend. I realize that is harder, but I think that's the ticket.

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The weather has turned cool (Yay!) and I have been making soup. I love soup and I love soup weather. I was in the middle of boiling the peas for pea soup when Boo had her accident the other day. I left the peas on the stove to soak, and returned to them that evening to finish up. I had (IMHO) the great idea to put butternut squash in the soup. I thought it would be awesome. Too bad I forgot to put the finished pot of soup in the refrigerator before I went to bed. I walked into the kitchen the next morning and saw it sitting on the stove. It was a big bummer to start my day.

So I decided to make some vegetable beef the next day to satisfy my soup craving. For the frist time in a long time, I just made it up - and it actually turned out pretty good. And it is so much faster to prepare when you don't have to keep checking the cook book. Now that it has aged in the frige a few days, it is really good. Yummy.

It is a sort-of goal of mine that when Boo is living next door to me, and wants to know how to make awesome vegetable beef soup like her mom's, that she will come over for the "recipe" and I annoy the tar out of her by saying the kinds of things that my mom says to me...

"You just throw in some beef stock." To which Boo will reply, "how much?" And I will say... what... can you guess?

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And just for fun, I will throw in the transcript to the conversation I had with Bug while typing this post.

Me: Bug, stop painting on your face.
Bug: (ignoring me.)
Me: Bug, you are not to paint on your face again.
Bug: (ignoring me.)
Me: Bug, did you hear me?
Bug: Yes.
Me: please tell me what I said.
Bug: Did you hear me!

Good job, son.