weekend ... warrior

What happened on Thursday was that I had to make lunch for eleven people, and we had lots of potatoes, onions, and cauliflour in the house. I hastily sought an appropriate recipe in a cookbook, and found 'caulifour cheese pie in a potato crust' to be, really, my only option. Three and a half hours, two and a half pies, one cut finger and one burnt arm later, I was winning the praise of some of the most seasoned cooks in our house. It's funny because I never thought I would have wound up slaving over food I wouldn't have come within five feet of in high school 'Caulifour cheese pie?' The name still makes me want to not eat it.
And then on Saturday, everyone in our house cleaned and then went bowling. And then we went to the YMCA to go swimming. Catherine and I were in the hot tub, and N. came into the hot tub room. There was an old man who was just sitting near the stairs of the hot tub kind of grinning when N. took his first step into the tub. The water being hot persuaded N. to swoosh his feet, one at a time, in rhythmic intervals in the water in an effort to become accustomed to the high temperature. This created quite a torrent at the staircase end of the hot tub, where the old man was sitting, trying not to look disturbed. The water was nearly splashing up into the old man's mouth, and N. was nearly kicking him in the back with his feet that had yet to get used to the water. We advised N. against his swooshing, only to get a slack-jawed stare in return that makes you think he either didn't understand you, or is an ass. In any event, he stopped swooshing his legs and proceeding to insert his arms up to his elbows into the water, and began swooshing these apendages from side to side. Considering that he was only on the second stair down at this point, he had to essentially double over at the waist to satisfactoraly submerge his arms, which meant his open mouth exhaling directly into the old man's ear while swooshing arms sent waves over the old man's shoulders. N. seems to consider his potential conduct in a situation before acting, makes logical decisions, and then acts on these decisions. The welfare of others is what he seems to consistantly neglect. But when N. has his clear logic supporting his actions, and you tell him to stop whatever he's doing, you are telling to cast logic aside and loose control to someone who doesn't recognize his specific needs. So he won't do what you tell him if he thinks he's acting in the right. In the end, I think the old man liked the attention he got from being disregarded by N. (we were casually apologizing on behalf of N. when ever the turbulant water seemed to splash the old man in the eyes), and Catherine and I certainly laughed hartily. Maybe N. was trying make us happy.