The other day I found a trail of macaroni and cheese stuck to the kitchen table.
I’m not sure exactly how it unfolded or what the events were that led up to it….
…but Lewis and Clark would have been proud.
The trail started at one end with a few lone pieces and dripped and drabbed bits of cheese and noodle remnants from one side of the table to the other.
It looked like the macaroni eater discovered the trail and in a valiant attempt to clean it up….
….smeared giant cheese swirls all over the table.
I’m not sure what happened.
I’m not sure why the pasta eater couldn’t stay put.
I’m not sure why they couldn’t eat all their macaroni in one place.
We have a family rules sign for events just like this.
I literally rolled my mom eyes and grabbed a sponge to start cleaning up the great wall of macaroni. Irritated, I swiped at the smeared-in cheese which was gripping the table like a mountain climber on Mount Everest with 48 feet left on the climb.
It didn’t even make a dent.
I scrubbed and scraped and elbow greased it and finally got a small section of cheese to let go.
But the macaroni?
Hardest substance known to man.
I need to turn it into NASA for future space research.
No matter what I did, I could not get it off the table.
I scraped at it and tried to peel it up at one end and got out kitchen utensils to try to pry the noodles loose.
Finally, I got one piece up, then another, until all that was left was the giant amalgamation of macaroni on one side.
Determinedly, I scraped around the edges of the hill of pasta, until with one giant heave, it finally let go….
….and took most of the table top finish with it.
I looked at my table top in horror.
Then I shielded my eyes, blinked twice and squinted at the table again.
It was still there.
A hole in the finish the size of Texas back when it was a republic.
Some people might have gone back to bed and pulled the covers over their head and started all over again tomorrow.
And the table?
It was sanded and sanded and sanded a little more.
Until the rest of the darker finish was removed, leaving behind this beautiful wood grain stained a lighter color.
Now it says farmhouse.
Now it says fall.
Now it says take that mountain climbing pasta…..
….it’s hard to keep a good farmhouse table down.
PS The twins are getting their braces on today. Fingers crossed we tackle it like macaroni. 🙂