Of pasta and patience

Wednesdays means pasta night at the county club.  Not that I'm a member.  This is a "friends with benefits" kind of thing.  It's a night off from cooking for us; but for my friend not a night out.  Her young daughter is six and is familiar with how to behave properly in public, but the evening usually ends in both a test of new flavor combinations and of learning all the ways we must be patient.  I find it ironic that in a club of exclusivity I can find a window of reality.  At the end of the day... always a little patience.