Presto, Pesto!

It is quarter to 5 on Sat. Everyone is asleep. Yes, everyone. Ryan has left to run errands or go to work or something...

I have had a bad day. The details are irrelevant.

I am hiding in the kitchen making pesto.

I went to the market specifically to get the big bag of basil. I had a mission, it would have a purpose. My intention is to make a ton of pesto & then eat it ALL on tons of french bread. That is the day I have had.

I poured most of the bag into the colander but there was so much it had to be washed in batches. Before he leaves, I get out my camera & Ryan folds laundry on the kitchen table. I am thinking, What a monster bag of basil! He is probably thinking, Why is she taking a picture of that???

I get lost in the whirl of the food processor & my mind drifts to plans for my pesto. I reflect on how I'd never really been a fan of pesto. Until about 2 days ago. I made a vegetable lasagna that called for it & when it said, fresh or prepared I checked the ingredients to make it myself. Basil it said. Well, I have plenty of that, I thought. Once I tasted it, I was hooked. I am still a little confused how 5 ingredients can produce such explosive results but who I am to question the universe?

I am pretty much finished making & then pouring the pesto into freezer bags. Then I hear Mimi, coming down the stairs, crying. She is awake & her nose has been pouring all day. It is the island, I am told. Everyone is apparently allergic to it. Every few wks, her nose will pour for a couple of days & then go away. Today it is in full force & she is miserable.

She continues to cry as she walks around the house. I continue to clean up. She comes in the kitchen to have me wipe her nose after a huge sneeze.

Why are you crying? I ask.

Bc my nose is running.

Well is that a reason to cry? Is it helping?

Then I hear Oliver begin to cry on the couch. He doesn't nap anymore but when he does, he is misery once he wakes up. He is crying bc he has been asleep & is now awake.

Oh good, I say. Oliver is crying too. Now everyone can cry, I tell Mimi as I hold her on my hip. But what about Mommy? Do I get to cry too?

No, she says as she lays her head on my shoulder.

Why not?

Bc you're the mommy.