My dad says I share the ability of other cooking-minded people to be able to look at an empty fridge, shake it, and have a delicious meal fall out.

Today when we got home from church, there were five rumbling tummies coming in our door--and I had not planned anything for lunch. I opened the fridge and scanned the contents, then started taking a few things here, some leftovers there, and this and that and pulling them out onto the counter. Forty-five minutes later we were enjoying a delicious lunch of Maple-Glazed Turkey Sausages, and Curried Apple and Yam Sauté with the leftover gourmet salad from last night's supper. As we were finishing it off, and Jude was tucking the last bite of his second helping away, Jason asked him, "Did you like this meal, Jude?"

Jude looked at him with a look that said, Don't be silly, Dad. "This isn't a meal," he said. "Peanut butter and honey sandwiches, that's a meal!"

I'm beginning to feel that my talents are under-appreciated by certain members of my household. I can see it in a few years, while Jude is comparing lunches with the other kids at school:

"Jude, d'you wanna trade sandwiches today?"

"Lemme check. Uh...nope. PB & honey today. That's my favourite!"

"Darn. My mom always sends me tuna!"

"Yeah. My mom isn't much of a cook, but she does make a mean peanut butter and honey sandwich!"