Dear Kid,

Hope everyone gets to spend some time to rest, relax, and enjoy the holiday. (And help with the clean up.)

I love it when a holiday comes together. Happy Thanksgiving!

Love, Mom

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Dear Kid,

“Who wants to help me make cookies and then go for a long walk?” your sister asked.

Not a completely unreasonable suggestion (for it was more suggestion than question). Except that it was already 9:15pm when she asked.

In between watching the Olympic races (mostly swimming at that hour), Dad and Pi baked 4,892 chocolate chip cookies. Dad announced every few seconds that this was the first time he’d ever made cookies from scratch. It was kind of a sport in and of itself: mix cookie dough, race back into the family room to catch up on the Olympics, race back to the kitchen before the dough is overmixed, yell to find out who the announcers are talking about, scoot the cookies in the oven, pray that the next race will end prior to the timer going off. You get the picture.

By the time Pi and I set off for a walk it was next Tuesday. Who goes for a walk at 11pm? Your sister that’s who. Who thinks it’s a good idea to go for a walk at 11pm when it’s raining and the humidity is about a zillion percent? Your sister that’s who. And who accompanies her? You got it on the first guess.

We had took the Puppy with us on the first lap, but then he was smart enough to want to go inside where it was dry, there was a comfy pillow to sleep on, and someone might be talked into giving him a treat.

Pi and I and our umbrellas continued to walk. Our Fitbits appreciated it. We also got a bit of time to catch up which is always nice and frequently entertaining.

Today’s plan (if she ever decides to wake up) is a mad dash to get her ready for college.

Yikes! My baby goes to college this week.

I’d best go lie down for a bit.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Friday night Dad and I went to the hippest event in Blue Ash: the Food Truck Fest.

The past two years, the Food Truck Fest has been down in Washington Park (not convenient). This year it moved to Summit Park in Blue Ash (extremely convenient).

I’m pretty sure they moved it just for us. And because Summit Park is awesome and can accommodate many more trucks.

If you weren’t at Summit Park in Blue Ash for the Food Truck Fest, you missed a great event and a lot of YUM!

There were enough people so it felt incredibly well attended, yet not so many that it was hard to walk around. Most of the trucks had short lines for food, but the waits weren’t bad at all. We decided to walk the whole circle to check out all the different offerings—and there were a lot of different kinds of foods. Trucks specialized in everything from coffee to cupcakes, from pizza to pops, from beer to BBQ, from Cuban to Korean to waffles to wings to…well, you get the idea.

It was very difficult deciding where to eat because everything sniffed so good. We finally decided to eat at Urban Grill and let me just say YUM! Dad had a chicken something or other sandwich and I had a fantastic couscous bowl and we were pretty quiet while we ate because YUM! In some ways, this is awful, because it means that the next time we go to a gathering of food trucks we’ll want to eat at Urban Grill again; AND we’ll want to try other tasty things too. Decisions, decisions.

The weather was absolutely cooperative for our visit—it cooled down just enough to be nice while we walked around and the rain didn’t start until after we left. I really hope the In Charge Of Food Truck people bring this event back to Blue Ash next year. Or soon than next year.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

The next kale has arrived. This is a good thing, because the last kale was, well, kale.

Just to be clear, kale is not a vegetable. Kale is a garnish that people discovered you could turn into chips by drowning pieces in oil and spices. As “chips” kale became a great conveyor for salt and you could barely taste the kale part.

As far as some of us are concerned, even that much kale was pushing it. Which is why you’ve never been served kale in our house. (Yes, I am just anti-kale and you’ll just have to accept me as I am.)

The newest food trend is—are you ready for this?—chickpea water.

It sounds better if you call it aquafaba, but whatever you call it it’s the stuff you pour off when you open a can of chickpeas.

The good news is no one is suggesting drowning chickpea water in salt and oil and somehow turning it into chips.

The better news is it’s not kale.

Cooks and bartenders are using aquafaba as an egg white substitute for all sorts of things like meringues and whipped cream and ice cream and those creamy drink things that bartenders make with raw eggs. (Not sure where to classify raw egg consumption on the ick scale, but I’m guessing it lands pretty close to kale.)

The cool part is that people are reducing waste by taking something that was just going down the drain and turning into YUM.

I haven’t decided if I’m going to follow the trend and try using chickpea water to make meringue. But I have to say, I’m a bit intrigued.

And it’s not kale.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

My body and I are arguing a lot these days.

Body: Let’s eat cake!
Me: No.
Body: Let’s eat cookies!
Me: No.
Body: Let’s eat chocolate!
Me: No.
Body: Remind me again why I hang out with you?

Me: Tell the fat cells to go.
Body: Not so much.
Me: This is an eviction notice for the fat cells.
Body: But they live here!
Me: That’s the point. They are no longer welcome.
Body: I think I’ll keep them anyway.

Me: Get up and get moving.
Body: I got up and got moving yesterday.
Me: We have to do it again.
Body: I beg to differ.
Me: It’s not really optional.
Body: Yeah? Just try moving without me.

Body: I hurt.
Me: You don’t hurt. We went to the gym yesterday.
Body: I hurt.
Me: You feel energized.
Body: I think we’re using a different dictionary.

Body: It is time to eat.
Me: We just ate.
Body: It is time to eat again.
Me: It is time to clean the kitchen.
Body: My idea is better.
Me: True. But…
Body: So we eat!
Me: No.
Body: The cookies are tempting….
Me: Yes, but…
Body: We could just have one.
Me: Now I know you’re toying with me.

Love, Mom