The lunch hour

As a rule, I rarely broach work issues here, at least not specifically enough that it would get me in trouble.

That said, I must blog about one of the most fabulous lunch hours I have had in ages.

I have always been a big fan of lunch, though I have to forgo the pleasure too often as a cost-saving measure or because work is so insane that there really is only time for something fast.

The other day, I was summoned to a different bureau from my own, for a training session, then got to enjoy the rare treat of dining out with some of the girls.

The conversation wandered from family news to Jim Carrey movies to oddball characters who seem to regularly show up in our news cycle. But much of the talk centered around the two terrors who run our lives and how their idiosyncrasies too often, sadly, dictate the scope of our work. We commiserated and shared both the sad and ridiculous moments that seem to only cement the growing frustration and the poor office morale, but it was an excellent bitch session that we all needed.

I know I haven't laughed that hard in months.

Mystery meat

I love Easter for all the traditions that can be so comforting - the new spring dresses at Mass, the jubilant songs, the dyed eggs and chocolate bunnies and a big family meal.

My recent Easters now include this strange deception we play with my father in law.

I'm not a big meat eater - never had been and that's even more so true because I'm married to a vegetarian. Still, I won't forgo all meat, especially those that I associate with tradition. To me, that means lamb for Easter brunch.

However, my father-in-law hates lamb. Or at least he says he does. My mother-in-law knows better, though, and a few years ago, as I planned the family brunch and I fretted over his distaste for lamb, she told me to go ahead, don't worry about an extra entree, and just don't tell him it's lamb.

I was stunned. I worried about what kind of fiasco this would create, but she reassured me this would all go smoothly.

Then it was Easter Sunday and I proudly whipped out all my dishes, including a plate full of lamb chops. The question came up from the father-in-law: "What is this?" According to the pre-planned strategy, my mother in law took care of the lie and told him it was pork. My husband and I said nothing.

We ate, chatted and believe it or not, my father in law was completely fooled. He ate every bite of the lamb and declared it was one of the best meals he had had.

Later, my mother in law laughed and told me that we had been honest and told him, he would have never taken a bite.

This Easter, yet again, we succeeded with this strange game again, only this time, I deftly avoided having to lie by pretending I never heard the question. Which, sadly works these days because he's getting hard of hearing.

My Catholic conscience keeps telling me there must be some sin I am committing by doing this, but I find the whole situation so ludicrous, I can't stop playing.