So I went to the dining room to do my hiding because you really do need a table to eat sushi comfortably, else the dipping gets all messy, elbow contortions and soy sauce drips on the bed sheets, but I figured I was safe because everyone else was playing as raucously as ever clear across the house in the family room.
I should have eaten in the upstairs bathroom with the light off. I could probably see enough to read by 4 watt nightlight, yes?
It was approaching L's bedtime and I heard the lovely husband's struggle to convince her to give up her day wear. Part of my stealth had been in not even telling him that it was sushi o'clock so I had only myself to blame when he started calling for me, asking for diaper reinforcement.
Suddenly he appeared in the doorway, holding a vigorously defiant one-year-old by the armpits and trailing a three-year-old in his shadow. Diaper Girl has been rebelling as of late against the lie-down-and-take-it changing method so he dropped her, erect, into my lap to receive my standing-up method, which he insists is unreplicatable.
I read the Koran in college and I was trying to be mindful of its lessons as I kept my sushi eating hand distinct from my tushie wiping hand but things got complicated fast because the older one loves to be my dipper and she was manically grabbing salmon pieces and saturating them in the soy and cramming them in my mouth and the younger one was intrigued by the bright green ball of wasabi and repeatedly tried to stuff that in her own mouth. I yelled "no, no!" as I intercepted but then her sister, sensing a Helping Moment, tried to feed the younger one a big strip of pickled ginger. I gived her the pink food instead, Mama! she boasted as I tried intercepting that, too, making both girls extremely displeased.
And then I realized I could cover the naked nethers in front of my face so much faster if I just conceded to using two hands, and I realized that that posed no conflict, as I had previously perceived, because the kid with the covered nethers was force-feeding me anyway.
The one kid went off to bed with her daddy while the other kid became my chopsticks. I finished my salmon roll not in solitude, but while pondering that weekends really are no less crazy than weeknights.