As soon as the seasons changed and Izzy realized that it was starting to get cold again, he asked me if I’d make him some potato soup. Anytime he'd asked for it this summer, I always told him it was way too hot for potato soup, and it was - our a/c doesn't work well, so all that steam would have made it unbearable in here.
So this weekend my parents are here for and we're trying to decide what to have for dinner. Izzy pitches in, "Potato soup!," and he tries to talk everyone else into wanting potato soup as well, even telling my dad, who isn't a fan, “Are you SURE you don’t want some of Mommy’s delicious HOMEMADE potato soup?!”
I end up making it for me & Izzy (although every one else but dad had a bowl as well) and Izzy LOVED it. He was being very sweet, raving over it and telling me how delicious it is, thanking me over and over, then I can see him struggling for the perfect compliment and his face lights up as he finds it:
“Your potato soup is so good, it’s...it’s...it’s....as good as God’s love!!!”
I'm now accepting orders for that heavenly recipe. But in the full spirit of disclosure, I must admit that only Izzy and I loved it. Mom said the white pepper in it made it too hot *rolls eyes at her elderly taste buds*, dad wouldn't try it, Sophie said it looked yucky, and Chris just said it was fine. But I choose to believe my son, that it was, indeed, as good as God's love.
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