It had been a long day at work and a long day at home. I was starving by the time the kids were corralled, bathed, dressed and put to bed. Thankfully WonderWife™ had a plate of that night’s dinner waiting for me in the fridge. Peeling back the foil I discovered chicken and pasta in a béchamel sauce (that’s white sauce for all of you non-Food Network addicts out there). It might have looked monochromatic, but it was tasty.
I had just hunkered down in front of the TV digging into the meal when the Bean emerged from his bedroom.
WonderWife™ and I turned our heads and said, “Go to bed!” with the precision of a pair of synchronized swimmers.
“But, but…” the Bean stammered. “But I need to tell Dad about the cow.”
Apparently livestock was brought to the Bean’s school as a teaching aid. It was clear that the Bean was not going to even attempt to sleep until his story was told.
“Go ahead,” I said shoving another forkful of dinner into my mouth.
His eyes lit up. “Did you know that a cow has four sections in his stomach? And that it eats food and it goes into the first part of the stomach and gets moistened and then it goes back into the mouth and chews it again and it goes through all four of the stomachs.”
I looked down at my dinner plate, chunks of chicken and pasta covered in that creamy sticky white sauce that didn’t seem as appetizing as it had moments ago. I realized that I was still chewing my last bite of food.
“Then the cow peed and we all laughed,” the Bean said gleefully.
He was beaming, waiting for my response. I slowly swallowed.
“Thank you for that enlightening dinner conversation,” I said. “Now please go to bed.”