Sundays are the one day a week we get an entire day together as a family, from the first rays of morning sun until all six of our eyes are closed peacefully in slumber. I anticipate them the way some anticipate Friday nights, and start looking forward to the next by the time Wednesday rolls around.
They're not typically too exciting, most are spent at home with something simmering in the kitchen filling the house with mouthwatering smells, and the sound of a sporting event drifting from the T.V. This Sunday was no different, and it was perfect. The dark clouds blanketing the sky produced quiet showers all afternoon, and cast the house in a cozy, dim light while a couple candles flickered offering their golden glow. Random applause sounded through the living room from the PGA Championship, and homemade tomato sauce spent the afternoon thickening on the stove.
The highlight of our lazy Sunday came shortly after lunch and not long before nap time when we all gathered in the kitchen to make pizza dough. I assumed the role of event coordinator, walking Jon through the recipe and giving tips on his dough kneading technique, and helping Milani play in the flour.
They're not typically too exciting, most are spent at home with something simmering in the kitchen filling the house with mouthwatering smells, and the sound of a sporting event drifting from the T.V. This Sunday was no different, and it was perfect. The dark clouds blanketing the sky produced quiet showers all afternoon, and cast the house in a cozy, dim light while a couple candles flickered offering their golden glow. Random applause sounded through the living room from the PGA Championship, and homemade tomato sauce spent the afternoon thickening on the stove.
The highlight of our lazy Sunday came shortly after lunch and not long before nap time when we all gathered in the kitchen to make pizza dough. I assumed the role of event coordinator, walking Jon through the recipe and giving tips on his dough kneading technique, and helping Milani play in the flour.
You're not making dough correctly if you don't have smudges of flour several places on your face, and flour hand prints randomly smeared across the seat of your pants.
And by the time the dough was set aside to rise until dinner, Lulu and the kitchen were both covered in a dusting of flour, but the pizza that we devoured that night was some of the best we've ever made. I think it was the contribution of all three of us that made it tastier dough than I've made on my own before.
Sometimes on these uneventful Sundays I wonder if we should be planning more, and doing more, and going more places. I wonder if it would be better for Milani to spend the time out seeing new things, and having exciting experiences, but to be honest the quiet Sundays spent at home together are amongst my favorites. I hope that maybe they'll be some of Milani's favorites as well; that she'll cherish these little traditions like making homemade pizza dough, and relish the times we enjoyed the simplicity of each others company. They certainly have a special place in my heart.
And a totally random picture of Milani stuck in a box, just because it's too cute not to post. Yep, that's her angry face because I'm taking pictures of her before rushing to her rescue.