370. Chicken pasta
© Bruce Goodman 15 October 2014

Grace had three teenage sons. They ate any and everything. What a relief it was when she made chicken pasta. Just a bit of chicken and piles and piles of pasta. All in a white sauce. The whole thing was then baked until golden brown on the top.

“I’m full as a bull,” said Logan at the end of the meal. The other two agreed.

“Thanks, Mum,” they said. “I’m stuffed. Couldn’t eat another thing.”

It was always pleasing to Grace when she had so filled them with food that they were no longer hungry. She sat down to watch a bit of television. Just for an hour. At the end of it, she heard a rustling in the kitchen. The three teenage sons were there.

“Just having a quick fry up, Mum,” said Logan.

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