Locusts

My sons have entered the stage where I lovingly call them 'the locusts'. Where food just miraculously disappears, even items that in the past, would not have passed muster with GameTeen (nearly anything not white or cheese), or Chef (anything beef).

I can tell the people who have younger children, female children, or have not had children, because there is a blank look when my offspring are referred to as 'locusts'. However, mothers of present or former teenage sons soon adopt a knowing look, nod and smile slightly, then give me a look of compassion, like 'ye gods, woman, you have TWO to feed?'. A few, with similar senses of humor, have adopted the term for their male children, too.

When they no longer required child care, we were doing the happy dance, because we were disgustingly broke and that $130 a week could pay for needed items. Now, if I'm not careful, that is the increase in the grocery bill. Thankfully, I have a decent job that it's not killing us to feed locusts. However, I really need to step up the efforts on teaching one of the locusts how to cook, so that perhaps they can lay off the items in the fridge that were purchased to make the next night's dinner!

However, tomorrow is the Olympics for those who enjoy cooking, as well as those who enjoy eating. I've learned that I can no longer do the cooking decathalon, but I can make the locusts happy. They each got to chose one of the sides, and a double batch of one is prepared, while a double batch of the other will be put together in the morning.

It's anyone's guess how long before they pick the bowls clean...