The Spaghetti Incident

Axl Rose had no idea how prophetic that phrase would be in my life. I was a big Guns N' Roses fan when "Appetite for Destruction" came out - 1987 (what an amazing year!) A few years later, GNR released 'The Spaghetti Incident' which, although a pretty good album, really only sported 'Patience' and "I used to love her..." But now, my-post-rock-single-freedom self finds another way that phrase fits my mama costume. We all know how difficult it can be to find the best, most nutritious foods for our children. There's never enough time to shop and cook everything ourselves, so, yeah Baby Z gets pizza every now and then. But I made spaghetti sauce - homemade, delicious, chunky, mushroom garlic spaghetti sauce. It's my comfort food. And if I make enough of it, I can freeze it and it becomes my go-to when all else fails. However, could I find a less messy go-to? It's Sunday. We haven't done the trip to Fairway yet. All I've got is some squash and lettuce and I doubt Baby Zee wants a nice plate of mixed greens.  So I defrosted the sauce and put on the pot to boil the noodles.  I stripped Baby Z down to her diaper and strapped on a yellow bib (ha ha ha , I know, nice try) We're trying to convince her to use utensils but the fork merely becomes tangled in the handfuls of noodles and then ends up on the floor. Baby Z ate maybe 1/3 of the bowl, the rest ended up in her lap and all over the floor. She started flinging noodles and I immediately got down to her level, looked her in the eye and said 'That is a no-no' in a calm, even voice. Bad idea. She slapped one spaghetti sauced hand right across my face. And laughed. This is when the rest of the lyrics of "I used to love her..." started playing in my head. I left the room, to recover, and wash my face. I returned to see the child, sitting cherubic and happily covered in tomato sauce, quietly and diligently filling her diaper. So now I had a dangerous perimeter to traverse with an armed and loaded perpetrator at the center. A warm washcloth took care of the immediate threat from the flailing hands but the greater threat loomed as the clock ticked. Sweat beaded on my brow. Will the new diapers hold? Will I make it to the nursery without any collateral damage to the highchair seat? Will I slip on a noodle and send us both sliding into a horrific mess of 'before and after' food?! My mind raced. I grabbed her by the armpits as I stepped gingerly between noodle landmines. I held my breath - for more than the obvious reasons. The span between the dining room and the nursery extended out ahead of me, the path telescoping into what looked like the hallway in the scene in Poltergiest ("Stay away from my baby!")I blacked out. I don't know how long it took but I skidded into the nursery, baby dangling by her armpits, and placed her on the changing table. I always like to listen to music with her so I hit the on button on the radio and there's Axl, this time singing "Take me down to Paradise City." Ha, he has no idea.