Page 23 of Painting Together a Family
“Daddy, butter my biscuit.” Micah passed his biscuit over.
“What’s the magic word?”
“I know! It’s please! Daddy, please butter my biscuit.”
“That is indeed the magic word.” Grinning, he cut Micah’s biscuit open and put butter on both sides before handing it back. Then he did the same for himself.
“What’s the little white rectangles in the salad?” Juniper asked, looking at them suspiciously.
“Dylan?” Bryan thought maybe his boy would like to tell them about the new vegetable they’d discovered at the market this morning.
“It’s a kol… korab…kolbaby?” Dylan looked to him.
“That was close—kohlrabi.”
“It’s a kolrabi! The man said it tasted like radish and apple, but it doesn’t because I don’t like radish and I know what apple tastes like. It tastes okay, though.” As if to prove the point, Dylan stabbed one of the little bites and put it in his mouth, munching on it.
“I’d never heard of it before this morning,” Bry admitted. “But the farmer suggested it would be good in a salad, and I think he’s right.”
Dev took a forkful of salad, making sure it had a piece of the kolrabi in it, and he nodded as he chewed. “It’s good. I like that the salad has all sorts of bits and pieces in it. It’s like a party.”
Juniper looked at Dev like he’d lost his mind. “Salads are not parties, Da.”
Bry bit the side of his cheek to keep from laughing.
Micah looked at his salad, then he nodded. “Salads not parties!”
“No, but they’re good to eat,” Bry suggested. “And I put some strawberries in this one, and some sliced almonds, so it’s even got dessert-like ingredients in it.”
Juniper looked through the very small portion of salad she’d taken and frowned. “I don’t have strawberries.”
Grabbing the tongs, Bryan carefully picked up a couple pieces of strawberries and set them on top of the lettuce on her plate. “There you go.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bryan.”
“Did you guys do anything fun today?” Dev asked, looking at the boys.
“We saw the market,” Dylan told him, his older boy always likely to take everything in order.
“We made playdough and swung in the park,” Micah added. His younger boy was more the in-order-of-best-to-least-best kind of guy.
“You made your own playdough?” Dev asked, looking to him this time.
“Oh yeah. It’s super easy. We even made three different colors this time. And as long as you keep it in an airtight container, it lasts for months. Or you can cook it once you’ve made your shapes and it turns hard like a statue.”
“How neat is that?” Dev looked so impressed.
“It really is easy.” He didn’t want to take credit where it wasn’t due.
“Don’t sell yourself short. I didn’t evenknowyou could make it yourself.”
He shrugged, but he guessed he’d take it. Even if the only reason he knew how to make homemade playdough was because for a while there, he couldn’t afford the store-bought stuff.
Marley had a second piece of chicken breast and some more salad, confirming that she’d been honest about liking his food. His boys both had seconds on the biscuits, while Juniper chewed on a wing, attacking it to get all the bits of meat off the bone. When he offered Dev the chicken plate, the man waved him off.
“I really do graze through most of the time, so this is already a big meal for me.”
“Well, there’s leftovers then, if you need another bite in a while.”
