One of my most favorite comfort foods is pastina, prepared with egg and cheese.

So naturally, one of the first things I wanted to feed my kids was pastina. And then life took a downward spiral.
Anyone who has given their kid pastina KNOWS how fucking shitty the clean up is after the kid attempts to shove it in their face. Only about half of the actual pastina makes it into their mouth. The other half is in their hair, down their shirt, down their diaper and of course, all over the floor.

I won’t get into the floor mess. You know the deal.

I keep giving it to them because, well, it’s really good and they really love it.

BTW: here’s the recipe. Try it and let us know what you think at sothishappened@bleepingmotherhood.com

On one particular evening, my husband and I tag teamed the pastina clean up effort. I literally had to strip my son down because he destroyed himself and the immediate area.  I told the hubs that I was going to go and grab clean clothes. With a panicked look on his face, he asked:

“Can you at least remove the macaroni from his balls?”

Did you ever hear of such a thing? Have you ever had to remove macaroni from balls? I couldn’t get those words out of my head the entire evening.