cat named pig

Have you been dying of suspense? Here’s how it went down.

Fondue Friday got off to a rather rocky start (Matt working late; Ryan running to the store for fondue fuel, AFTER I had checked to make sure we had fondue fuel, when what we really had was an empty container of it neatly wrapped and put away with the fondue set; me growling about “who puts an empty container of fuel back in the box,” etc.). And I always forget how long it takes for that tiny flame to melt all that cheese, and how much stirring is required.

Enough time for TWO huge poopy diapers on Elliot’s part, it turns out. But Siena and Avery did some ballet while Ryan and Sara stirred the cheese and I changed multiple disgusting diapers. Then it was fondue time.  

The girls loved the idea of dipping stuff into the cheese, but I didn’t see either of them actually taste it. They did eat plenty of plain bread, plain cheese that had not been melted, and veggies. They also left the table for a costume change halfway through the meal, and came back dressed in swimsuits, all packed for “Hawaii.” This was followed by some rather inappropriate swimsuit wrestling (I was surprised by this too) and then, of course, some swimsuit ballet, which surprised no one. 

Matt showed up in time to put Elliot to bed and put on some non-Nutcracker music, and the evening ended in a massive search for one of Avery’s socks, which I found (minutes after they had left) in a baby stroller under several tons of dress-up clothes.  

While I went into the evening with equal parts trepidation (open flame, sharp objects, preschoolers who trash my house for fun) and anticipation (Ryan’s cookies. . . mmm. . . must have the cookies. . . . give me the cookies. . . . mmmPRECIOUSSSSSSSSS. . . . MINE), I think we all had a good time.  And the cookies did not disappoint. Might have to make Fondue Friday an on-going tradition. . . .