In and out of the mouths of babes

Sunday nights are a night for soup in our household.  The recipe changes every week.  It always starts with an onion, but can go anywhere from there, depending on what looks like it's about to go bad in the fridge.

This week's soup also included some trimmings from the vegetable patch - some perpetual spinach that needed tidying up, some parsley thinnings.  It feels awfully smug and healthy when I can chuck things in the pot that I harvested from the garden mere moments before.

Despite the variability of the flavour, it's always a hit with the kids.  Itsyboo in particular is known to be extremely enthusiastic.

There is definitely a child behind the bowl

We changed our routine a little bit today - in the past we've eaten our soup in shifts.  5:00 for kids tea, then grown-ups once the children were in bed.  I decided, though, that we'd all start eating supper together on a Sunday, so we sat down at 6 en famille.  Miss A, delighted by both the meal and the company, announced "I love eating soup.  It makes me grow up big and strong!"

"Big and strong like who?" asked Daddy, smirking.

"Like Mr. Tumble!"

Justin Fletcher 1, Daddy 0.

He wins!