The Timothy Pantry

"Mom, you seriously need to go shopping," Timothy announced yesterday. "The pantry is empty."

Well, empty it was not, so he clarified his statement.

"What I'm talking about is a Jonathan-is-coming-home pantry," he explained. "Now that's a full pantry. I also like the Jonathan-is-coming-home meals that you make."

Busted. There is also a Nicholas-is-coming-home pantry, but it's a little less frequent because he lives in Arkansas. I freely admit that before the older boys come home, my tendency to stock the pantry and refrigerator is akin to the father offering the fattened calf to his prodigal son. And Timothy knows this all too well. Last month, after an especially big grocery store haul, I excitedly showed him the pantry. The shelves were packed with sodas of all kind (which we never get), chips, cookies, pasta, cereal boxes (everything from Cheerios to Fruit Loops), and Little Debbie cakes (a real treat). Timothy looked at the pantry and with a touch of irony said, "Jonathan is coming home this weekend, isn't he?"

So yesterday I listened to Timothy lament the state of our pantry, and because I felt little sorry for him, poor neglected thing that he is, I asked him what Jonathan-is-coming-home meals he would like me to make. Just like that he rattled off a list: tuna spaghetti, chicken and polenta (the one with the tomato sauce), that spicy beef with the mashed potatoes, breaded Italian chicken, and homemade pizza which, evidently, I haven't made in a while.

"That's a whole week right there," he said helpfully.

I looked at my growing boy. Earlier, when he came downstairs for breakfast, I demanded that he stop growing because there was no way my baby could be six feet tall. When he told me that I needed to add two inches, I said uh-uh no way so he pulled out the tape measure to prove he was right.

My baby is officially six feet, two inches tall.

And that baby was still standing there, grinning, and looking hungry. So fine. I made chicken and polenta for dinner.

And today, since my menu planning is complete thanks to you-know-who, I'll go grocery shopping and stock a Jonathan-is-coming-home pantry ... all for Timothy.