Ensenada, Mexico 2010

Once upon a time I was invited to go to Ensenada, Mexico to visit the City of Children. This was a timely journey for me because my own children had deserted the home place in order to live their own lives and I had no one to guide, guard and direct. What could be better than a city comprised entirely of children. I was pumped thinking I would do a little playing, maybe some singing, and perhaps even some coloring in the VBS classes at night. I would travel with the youth group (who view me as a favorite, dotty old aunt) and it would be quite lovely.

I might even do some shopping in Ensenada.

Sign me up!

Here's my group. This is before I realized what the week had in store for me.

This is a group of around 30. All well-mannered, at least around adults. (I'm not stupid, I've met Eddie Haskell.) They have to be fed. And while they can feed themselves they don't cook; somebody has to do that. That somebody was Becky. Do you see Becky? No? I didn't think so. Becky stayed home. Guess who the cook is... me, the one who is a follower not a leader, the one who majored in accounting not home economics, the one who thinks a baloney sandwich and chips is a well balanced meal.

Yes, me, the cook...for a group of 32... AND GUESTS.

20 to 30 GUESTS FOR LUNCH

30 to 40 GUESTS EACH NIGHT

Hungry guests; guests who don't eat baloney and chips; guests who don't eat rice if it's not white; guests who don't drink milk; guests who are NOT American.

I am out of my element.

This is what I wanted to be doing, do you see me here? No, I am in the kitchen.

What about here, chatting with the girls? No, still in the kitchen.

And here? Nope, not here either, still in the kitchen.

And here? Okay, so I wouldn't be here even if I wasn't in the kitchen, but you see my point.

I went to Mexico to visit the children and spent the week in the kitchen...and nobody starved.

I think I will go again next year.