The Circus (act 1) and a Clam Snack

Today was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and it really was gorgeous.

To look at.

It was freaking freezing outside, but the kids insisted on playing outside because they had a circus act to show me. Apparently the circus act involved chucking their coats and SHOES AND SOCKS because they were all missing when it was time for the audience to watch.

Ooooh, but it was wonderful.

Daring.

Exciting.

Risky.

Everything you might imagine a circus act to be!

And after I snapped this adorable picture of the two of them (they look the same age/size here, huh?) I said in my mom voice, "If you guys want to play outside, you need to put socks, shoes and coats on. Otherwise....you're inside for a time out."

They skedaddled for their shoes and coats and played for a while longer.

Inside, the boys (Danny and Uncle Patrick, my little brother) were carrying out their afternoon plans of making a little clam snack.

Baguette for dipping in clam sauce: check.

Gross, dirty, disgusting looking clams: check.

Horribly corny picture, posing with (only the best) Western Family tomatoes: check.

Pretty sure this is cilantro.

Lemons.

Ridiculously cute husband....with horrible looking home-brewed beer (but I'm sure it's wonderful, Danny).

And the final product:

It does look rather profesh and very pretty, I'll give them that.

From what I observed, they cooked some chopped garlic, oil, wine, fennel together....threw in some tomatoes....the clams...then when the clams opened up they took them out and threw the broth and a couple clams in the blender to make the sauce.

I think.

But by the time it was done and ready to eat, they had a little friend to join them:

(what could that neon yellow spot on her chin be? I have no clue...)

She was excited about the clams because she loves making clams talk.

Her clam act is pretty good, too....not as good as the circus act, but you can't have it all.

And this is what happens when you are trying to take a simple picture of your brother eating a clam. You get this stupid grin. Hate.

A little lemon squeeze (does that remind any moms of the Fresh Beat Band? Because that's totally what I thought of when I typed that).

Slurp.

Double slurp (and double gag from me).

And while Maria declined the invite to slurp a clam, she did accept the piece of bread....and seasoned it with lemon juice.

And as the clams slowly got slurped, little pockets of sauce opened up for the bread to take a bath in.

I actually tried a little sauce-dipped bread. A little salty for me, but then again I am not a salt lover.

And this is what you have left after 2 boys in their 20's sit down for 10 minutes with 3.5 lbs of clams and a baguette:

Maybe a sick tummy?