Parenting Parodies

Before parenthood  I used to sneer at badly-written tv and film scripts involving conversations with children.  They all seemed so contrived – unimaginative parodies of parenthood, involving poo or wee or dirt or nonsensical lies.  Not that such conversations don’t ever happen, I reasoned, but do they have to make the stuff she says to the child so obvious and clichéd?

Fast forward a thousand years and it goes without saying that I have now become a parody of a mother of young children.  I actually cannot believe some of the conversations I have, or the things that come out of my mouth.  For instance (random example from the past couple of days):

• “Sweetheart, can you stop picking your nose with that plastic bag please?” (The response:  “I’m NOT picking my nose.  I’m picking MY EYE.”)
• “PLEASE take your bottom out of her face. Thank you.”
• “Hand out of your bum.  Out. Of. Your. Bum.  OUT OF YOUR BUM!”
• (On the phone to the doctor’s)  “Thank you... sorry, just... yes... sorry...  (WHAT?  WHAT DO YOU WANT?   Can you just LET GO of my LEG...)  No, sorry, just talking to my... (Go Away.  AWAY!  INTO THE KITCHEN...) No, not you, hahaha... (AWAY!)”
• “Every time you kill an ant, an elf tells Santa.”
• “Right.  The next time one of you sticks mud in the other’s nose, you’re being sent to bed.  OR THEIR EAR...”
• “I know you were bursting, darling, but next time try to get up on the toilet, ok?”
• “I mean it, dogs do NOT like having their bums poked.  Put his tail DOWN.”

To his credit, and my salvation, the Man has also become a parody: Working Father  Who Becomes Hands-On at Weekends.  Swimming on Saturday mornings (Mummy stays at home with the ignored one-in her bouncer, the Times, and Graham Norton on Radio 2.  My favourite time of the week);  the park on Saturday afternoons (Mummy sometimes joins, but more often than not, not.); the bakery on Sunday mornings  (Mummy places an order from beneath the duvet);  and now: Sunday Lunch.   (Mummy watches, twitching, and muttering things like “put the kettle on now... the kettle... you need hot water for the stock, put the kettle on. The oven needs to be pre-heated... if you don’t put it on now the entire timing will be off...” etc).

I know that most people have Sunday lunch ritual, but we’ve never made a thing of it.  Until last week when the Man decided that we should, and took it upon himself to create a new weekly tradition: proper cooked Sunday lunch.  No eggs.  No cereal.  No bagels.  A meal that takes at least an hour to prepare, and uses, wherever possible, every single pot and pan in the house.   A meal that the Man is going to make.   A meal that MUST be accompanied by wine.  (I like both of these latter rules.)

He set off last week, a child under one arm, a very long list under the other, having consulted Jamie’s 30 Minute Meals.  I was somewhat trepidatious – the last meal he cooked from this was on my 40^th birthday, when I was banished from the kitchen (with orders to fuck off and stop muttering) and slunk away with a  bottle of champagne.  It took him TWO AND A HALF HOURS, by which stage I was pissed, so really, he could have served me anything, but as far as I can recall, it was very tasty. This time, I managed to stay sober, hardly interfered at all, it only took about an hour, and was really very delicious indeed. 

Although in the spirit of parodying a nagging wife, I would never tell him that, of course. 

Fish Tray-Bake

You need:  For 4 (2 adults, 2 children, and – hurrah! – their lunch the next day)

• Olive oil (any type)
• 4 salmon fillets
• Large raw prawns (as many as you want per person)
• A bunch of asparagus
• 1 lemon, quartered
• Handful of basil
• 1 tin of anchovies (Feel free to skip this ingredient.  The Man DIDN’T and so I had to scrape fishy grey sludge off my food.  Uuuuuuugh.)
• 4 cloves of garlic
• 4 tomatoes, chopped

PREHEAT THE FUCKING OVEN to 200c.  (And if you’re making potato salad to go with this – which I recommend – you need to out the kettle on.  NOW.)

Put a glug of olive oil in the bottom of a large roasting tray (or oven-proof dish) and swill it around.  Lay the asparagus, prawns  and the fish, skin side up (if relevant) on the tray, then add the lemon quarters, basil leaves, garlic, tomatoes, and 4 chopped anchovy fillets (if you want to revolt everyone at the table).  Drizzle over some more olive oil, salt and pepper, and stick in the PRE-HEATED oven for 17-20 mins.

Meanwhile decide what you’re going to eat with the fish and prepare.  We had new potato salad, pea & mint puree and spinach salad.  If you’re having potatoes, you’ll need to start cooking them before the fish, which gets cooked really quite quickly.  Nice bread would be a good carb alternative.

Serve the fish as soon as you can once it’s out of the oven.  Refrain, as much as possible, from telling your offspring to stop picking their noses / bums / ears etc at the table. It's a boring parental habit, which you've probably picked up from a crap film or tv show,  and they never listen anyway.