I felt like Julia Child. Or, at least like Rachael Ray.

Last night I received my first unsolicited cooking-related accolade from one of my children.

First may I saw how positively wonderful it was to come home on a Monday evening, pick up the kids, meet my husband at home, have him give the kids a bath while I cooked dinner, and had us all sit down together over a weekday meal? Ahhh. It's the little things in life.

I didn't do anything fancy for dinner. We had spaghetti with meat sauce, and I put some of those really buttery crescent rolls in the oven. Kyle was more interested in his apple, but Dylan just went to town with his pasta. He tried using his fork once and then set it aside and shoveled his food in with his little fingers. I know at some point this will be rude and inappropriate at the dinner table, but it's still cute for now. Michael and I shot each other smirks because Dylan totally has a thing for Italian food (red sauces especially). About three-quarters of the way through his bowl of pasta, Dylan stopped for a moment, took a breath, turned to me and said, "It's really good!"

Gold star for Mom!