I have failed as a parent. Oh, I’m sure this picture suggests otherwise. But the failure is embedded in the picture. Can’t see it? I mean, you’re right—it is lovely that our kids like each other enough to get together for the Super Bowl on their own. And we adore both Katy (Grant’s wife) and Carson (Lindsay’s boyfriend).
But I have still failed. Let’s try another picture and see if you can spot it.
See it? No? I mean, it does mostly look great. Grant has gotten more and more into cooking, and he has been experimenting widely from Cajun to southern to Dominican to barbecue. Mostly, he’s doing great. Here, it would help if you could see the bottom of the chicken.
An hour before kickoff, Grant texted this: I did the stupidest thing I’ve ever done today.
Readers, that is a black trash bag he tried to use as a warming plate. 🤦♂️
What’s worse, the best way I could comfort him was to tell him that just this summer, Lindsay had stopped me while I was going through the kitchen to say, “We’re out of parchment paper, so I used wax paper to bake my cookies. That’s okay, right?”
“Are they in the oven right now?”
“Yeah.”
“Get em out before you burn the house down.”
When she opened the oven, smoke billowed out, and the wax paper was curling and black. Sigh.
We raised our kids cooking, cleaning, and doing dishes and laundry alongside us. I don’t know what happened. I have a lot to reflect on.
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