It's 10:45 pm and I'm tidying the living room while the cake bakes because it's the only moment I've found to get ready for Zander's party all week.

And this is what I find behind the book shelf:


The picture doesn't really capture it.  This is tuna casserole.  Three week old tuna casserole.  Practically petrified.  A nice, furry little cloud of mould spreading towards in the middle...

The rule in our house is No Dessert Until Your Supper Is Gone!  The question is, which kid owes me a dessert and how in the world were they able to sneak away from the table and hide it before I knew what was going on and what does this say about my house-keeping?