I had several boring chores that I’d been putting off and twins clamoring to earn money, so I handed out assignments. Two glass marbles stuck in the kitchen drain– they’d fallen there when we cleaned out the fish bowl after Bingo III’s demise and had to be removed. A pile of recipes that needed to be taped to pieces of paper and slipped into laminated sleeves.
Porter was charged with removing the obstacles from the drain.
I could have edited the photo to make the sink appear gleaming white, or cropped it to show only the drain and not the Beef Ball sauce residue, but I’ve never painted myself as a paragon of perfection and am not starting now.
“What if I only get one of the marbles out?” Porter asked.
“Then you’ll earn $2.50,” I said.
“I might rather do that, because then I’d get two quarters and I could put them in my quarter collection.”
“I have no quarters because you’ve cleaned me out. The fifty cents would be paid in dimes, nickels and pennies,” I said.
“Then I’ll get them both out,” he decided.
I would have gone for the tweezers or the needle-nosed pliers, but my inventor had other plans. He disappeared into his room and returned with a Lego box full of supplies.
“Yo, what’s with all the magnets?”
“I’m going to hold the magnets over the marbles so that the magnetism seeps into the marbles. Then I’ll just hold my strongest magnet over them and they’ll pop out of the drain and stick to it.”
Drew was at the kitchen table, painstakingly trimming all the recipes I’d had shoved in a drawer, taping them onto colored paper and sliding them into plastic sleeves so I could simply wipe them off when they got spattered with olive oil and soy sauce.
“You can’t magnetize glass,” he announced.
“What do you know? I’m the one with the magnets. I’ve made my pencil magnetic before,” Porter said.
“A pencil isn’t made of glass. Mom, can you magnetize glass?”
“Don’t ask Mom, ask me. If I hold this drill bit to the marbles for fifteen minutes that should do it.”
While Porter magnetized the marbles, Drew finished the recipes.
I gave him his five dollars and the option of chillaxing or earning more money. Soon he was in the garage vacuuming the van and wiping down the seats.
Meanwhile, Porter had an epiphany. “I think I should electrify the glass instead. That will be much quicker and there will only be a few sparks.”
“Are you sure you don’t want my tweezers?” I asked.
“You don’t use tweezers when you do the electrified marbles.”
“Does making them electric help to get them out of the drain?”
“Yes, but it’s too complicated to explain. I need more batteries.”
Soon he’d come up with this contraption. Drew came in from the garage, lured by the promise of fire. I hovered closely at first, then decided that the addition of a battery wrapped with wire was neither dangerous nor bringing us closer to our goal. Porter didn’t seem perturbed about that. Ten minutes passed, and Porter added three more wire-wrapped batteries to the hammer, with no visible results.
Drew finished cleaning the van and collected another five dollars.
My neighbor came by to return a soup pot and peered at Porter’s project. “I have a pair of antique forceps that are long and skinny that would probably get those marbles out.”
“What are forceps?” Porter asked.
My neighbor is a teacher, and well-acquainted with Porter. She knew just how to market the forceps.
“Doctors use them for operations when they need to extract something from a person. If you have a bullet stuck in your leg, they’d use forceps to grasp it and pull it out. Using forceps requires a great deal of skill, though. Maybe your mom should come get them.”
“I use a lot of tools,” Porter said. “Forceps are a kind of tool, so I think I’ll come with you to your house now and get them.”
He abandoned the battery-bedecked hammer and returned with the forceps. Moments later, one glass marble was sitting on the counter.
“Two-fifty and counting,” he said.
The second marble took about a minute.
“I earned five dollars,” Porter said triumphantly.
“You should have used the tweezers in the first place. I earned ten dollars and read two chapters of Ark Angel,” Drew said.
“I don’t care. I’m going to go magnetize the birdseed and see if the parakeets stick to the sides of the cage after they eat.” Porter ran to his room to begin another project.
While Drew and I were reorganizing my recipe collection, I found a couple of recipes that people have requested. The famous Cobb Lane restaurant is closing at the end of this week, and several people have asked for the recipe for the roulage. Here it is.
For a jelly roll pan I use a large cookie sheet with sides. Butter the sheet and waxed paper WELL. I just use Hershey’s cocoa. Don’t get distracted while you beat the cream or you end up with butter, but this provides you with a good teaching moment to talk about pioneers and butter churns. I flavor my filling with a bit of sugar and bourbon.
Another meal we’ve been eating a lot recently is larb– like the lettuce cups you get at PF Chang’s. I double this for my family and have the boys mix it with rice to stretch it further, or else I’d be buying four pounds of grounds chicken for this. I use Sriracha for the chili-garlic sauce (add a bit at a time) and a poblano for the chilis. Whole Foods usually has lemongrass, and several grocery stores carry lemongrass in a tube. It’s found in the produce section under the herbs packaged in plastic and is a decent substitute. Last week I couldn’t find either and left it out entirely and no one complained.
One year ago in My Tiny Kingdom: How We Parent: Just Because You Asked