Earlier this evening as I was in the middle of committing dinner--skillet lasagna...from scratch...no boxes were harmed in the making of tonight's supper--I opened the 'fridge, reached for the tub of ricotta and it wasn't there. I pulled every single thing out of the refrigerator. No cheese. I called in another pair of eyes. He couldn't find the ricotta either. I bought it on Saturday. He put groceries away and recalls putting it on the top shelf. Monday I was moving stuff around to make room for the Cake and some things sat out for a little while and, as far as I know, everything found its way back in to the cold. We even looked through the trash. No tub of ricotta cheese. Poof...gone. Not a clue. My gift failed me.
The Wee Girl doesn't eat...a big part of why I daubed her "Wee Girl". But she eats lasagna. Sometimes. It's a crap shoot, really. I put her plate in front of her tonight with fairly low expectations. And the child ate it. Not all of it, but certainly more than she typically eats! Her brother cleaned his plate--twice! Sean labeled it "Spagania"... spaghetti made with broken up lasagna noodles.