Gournay Potatoes & The Boy in the Box

I took some potatoes from my Mom's garden, a delicious red onion, and some herbs from my garden. Sliced thin & baked with cream and butter and Gournay, cheddar, and mozzarella cheeses until everything was tender & bubbly.

That is my recipe, above. I have no idea what quantities were used, just "enough". It was so good I could have married it. Unfortunately, everyone else felt the same way about it so there wasn't much left. I'll make it again someday.

Keegan is my little kitchen helper. He scrapes dinner dishes & pans for me, pre-dishwasher, and he unloads the dishwasher after it's run. I know, it's a hard life for a little boy. Well I asked him to scrape out a pan and he came from his room to do it... wearing a box over his head. No eye-holes cut out or anything. He says (muffled from inside the box, facing in the wrong direction from me because he can't quite tell where he is) "Mom, why don't you make me wear more boxes on my head?"

I think about this for a minute, trying to figure out if there is a correct answer or even possibly something he might want to hear, but I get nothing. The sound of the tumbleweeds in my sound-processor. So I did what I'd like to believe any good mother would do and I said rather gruffly, "I don't know, Mister, but you'll wear that box the rest of the night or you're grounded!".

His Dad helped him cut eye holes & a nose/mouth vent because the box was also a bit too narrow for his face & was pooched out strangely toward the bottom.

Apparently the boy has scraped dishes wearing a box before, it's messier than the normal procedure and the dogs are congregated. Look how attentively they are watching the pan. It's like a magic show just for them! "C'mon, box-boy, scrape faster" they're saying.