A bus to catch

To tell you the truth, the most annoying thing about these long holidays is not always the amount of people being at home at the same time, nor the time they occupy the Internet access, it is more the demands of kitchen chores to be performed. Or space to have in the kitchen for that matter.

How hard is it not to make teenagers empty the dishwasher in their turn instead of lying dead flat on the sofa watching MTV turned on high, or making chocolate mousse for the first time and needing some hints and tips whereas in which order to combine the fluffy beaten ingredients instead of looking it up in the recipe they are at the same time reading as shouting for mums help?

Or the use of pots and pans which at the precise same moment should be available to mum in order to get the Easter lamb ready in time for dinner, which of course has be eaten exactly in time on order for the offspring to be able to keep up with their precious timetables and the numerous parties they have to have time to attend to the same night.

On holidays when there is a lot of cooking I am discounted of the emptying of the dishwasher as I have so much I am cooking anyway, and the pots and pans I wash up by hand anyway so I am more than doing my fair share of it, but then cooking is one of my favourite pastimes, which I enjoy immensely.

Apparently, or maybe at times very much unfortunately, I seem to have passed on these genes of mine to the offspring and that tends to make life, or in this context, cooking difficult for me. There just is not enough room for more than one cook in my kitchen, and it is mine as long as I am standing. Still I have to fight for my space at times with this so devious culinary genius child of mine. This is of course the chocolate mousse I am talking about that was promised to be made for dessert after the traditional Easter lamb. Well, fitting cooking of desserts into busy teenagers’ timetables is not as easy as it should be. And, what use is there to help mum out making the dessert, saving mum for going for some extra trouble of making the dessert when her help still is required to read what is written on the recipe, as it would have been much easier for mum to do the dessert herself?

Okay, then we would not have had pudding made by so devious culinary genius child of mine.

The taste was absolutely fabulous, actually finger licking good if you know what I mean, and the mousse looked exactly as it should have, but it would have needed a couple of more hours in the fridge in order to have had enough time to cool and set properly.

But there was this bus to catch, and another party “must” to be at and once again the nest was empty for the night.