Tara’s Takes
Brady usually doesn’t come home during the semester at the U. I take him to lunch when I’m in the Cities for meetings and we catch up. Now that he has an apartment, that also means a trip to the grocery store as well.
It’s not that he doesn’t want to come home, he doesn’t keep a vehicle in the Cities. So seeing him during the semester means we’re making the trip to the Cities.
Except for last weekend. Last Saturday, The Card Farmer in Marshall was hosting a Pokemon tournament. I will be the first to admit that I don’t understand the game, the strategy or any of the rules. Brady tried to teach me over Christmas break last year. After a few evenings, I believe he ruled the experiment a complete failure and never asked me again.
But he does play. He played this summer at The Card Farmer. He has a group of friends that he plays with at the University of Minnesota and they compete weekly at a card store about 30 minutes from campus.
So when the tournament was being planned here, organizers asked Brady if he’d come back and play. He said he would if he could get some friends to come with, especially Wyatt, who has a car.
Upon discussion of the tournament, decisions had to be made. Who was coming? Should they just grab food in Marshall when they were done? Should they spend the night and head back in the morning?
Pretty early on it was decided that they would head back Saturday evening. After some very excellent college math, it was also decided that driving down to Tracy and getting to eat for free at Brady’s place was a much better financial decision than going out to eat.
The question remained, who was coming? Or more importantly to me — how many? On Thursday of last week Brady called to say only three were coming. Upon discussion of what homemade dinner he’s missing the most, it was toss-up between lasagna and tater tot hotdish. The decision was made that I would make both and he would get to take the leftovers back to his apartment.
Friday morning rolled around and I got a message, “mom, there is going to be four of us now.” Not a problem. Even with us who lived in the house eating, we’d still be good.
Then Friday night I got a new message, “Mom, it’s five us now, hope that’s OK!” followed by a smiling emoji.
Perfect, five college-aged kids coming for supper after a drive down from the Cities, a full day tournament and probably nothing in their stomachs except gas station food and energy drinks since 8 a.m.
On Saturday, Natalie and I went to Stonegate Orchard as I had promised her earlier in the week and then we came home and tackled preparation.
The best part of growing up on a beef farm is the beef — store-bought just isn’t the same to me. That morning I had pulled seven pounds of hamburger out of the freezer to defrost.
The hardest part of preparation was we didn’t have a time they would be arriving. It all depended upon how the tournament went.
Planning ahead, we bought deep, disposable lasagna pans for all our cooking so we didn’t have to worry about getting any dishes back from the college kids. We started with the tater tot hotdish, containing two pounds of ground beef. Once the meat was cooked and the hot dish assembled, we did a little cleaning, and then stuck that hotdish in the oven as we started the lasagna. Natalie and I both agreed we needed a good lasagna, so we made another trip to Food Pride to get more ingredients so the lasagna could have more layers.
We loaded up our lasagna with three pounds of hamburger and it went into the oven as well.
Now per the original plans, that’s where prep should have stopped. However, the mom in me knew that college boys can eat, especially college boys and non-cafeteria food.
So we used the last two pounds for a meatloaf. After yet another trip to the store, we had bowl full of lettuce salad, a lasagna, tater tot hotdish, meatloaf and two gallons of milk.
The boys arrived about 6:30 p.m. and while the time with them went very quickly, the laughs and food shared was well worth the prep.
When your kid goes to college, the friends they make are not the same as the school friends they have here. You don’t know their parents, you haven’t watched them grow up. These are friends they make because of shared interests and values, not because they are in the same class. It’s just a different type of friendship.
When everyone was done eating, we boxed up the leftovers. Brady was able to take back half a lasagna, a little bit of tater tot hotdish and maybe a third of a meatloaf. They did leave me the leftover lettuce salad.
Like I said, the visit wasn’t long enough. Per and I joked as they talked about the tournament and life that we felt like the dumb kids in the back of a room full of professors. These kids were smart, kind and polite. If I ever meet their parents, I’ll be sure to tell them that.
But more importantly, it was a great group of friends taking on the next chapter of life and having people by their sides to face their challenges and celebrate their accomplishments. And based on the reviews, I may be requested to host again, or at least drop off a hotdish or meatloaf to the apartment when I’m in the Cities, which I’d be happy to do.
