Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Taco night

"Mommy, what are we having for dinner?" Abby asked at around 10 a.m.

It's taco night, I told her.

"Can I get up early from naps and help you make tacos?"

Nap time is sacred to me. But what kind of mom can say no to that question?

So at exactly 3:45, as instructed, she came downstairs to serve as my sous-chef de cuisine.
First, she made a list of everything we should have on our tacos so she could cross them off as we got them ready. And she added milk, so I wouldn't forget to put drinks on the table.

For the record, she thinks the spelling of guacamole is silly. I agree.

When dinner was served, I bragged on my assistant and made sure everyone knew what a big hand she had in getting our food to the table. After a round of thanks from the men of the family, we proceeded to enjoy our meal.

These might be the best tacos I've ever eaten. 


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