Last week, I had Liza and Maddie over for dinner at the new apartment. There was much debate over whether we should go out or stay in and eat a meal cooked by yours truly.

“I swear I’ve improved since college.”

“Improved how much?” Liza’s voice oozed with doubt, even over the phone.

“Enough.”

“I have a six-year old, you know. They’re picky eaters.”

“Yes, I know. I have Sean. An equally picky eater, comparable to a six-year old.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Ok, Chef Colleen’s it is.”

So for dinner I decided on mixed vegetables, egg nog casserole and chicken in an apricot brandy sauce. To make the sauce, I needed to light the brandy/apricot sauce on fire to allow the alcohol to burn out.

“Ok, Maddie, stand back. Just in case…”

“Just in case what, Aunt Colleen?” Maddie’s eyes grew wide and her chin dropped to the chest.

“Umm, well…just in case, you know. There’s an accident.” I looked at Liza who pulled Maddie out of the kitchen and then at Sean who was slowly backing away from me as well.

Maddie shook her head, looked up at her mother and said through the side of her mouth: “She’s going to burn the house down, isn’t she?”

But I didn’t burn the house down. And the apricot brandy sauce was delicious. So THERE, Maddie. Ha!