The beans boil onto the stove top, drip…drip…dripping to the floor. Chopped vegetables tumble off the cutting board and sprawl across the counter top in front of my disheveled teen chef. Twenty-six bowls, 7 measuring cups and 5 stirring spoons lay strewn on the kitchen counter. Company is coming for dinner!
And they are due to knock on the door in T minus 90 minutes.
The dining table resembles hurricane aftermath with papers, books and cups acting as table cover. Surrounded by the remnants of a harried home schooling day, I calculate the tasks at hand. We can do this.
See what happens Here.
