By Diego turned five on Monday. Five years old. The boy who arrived screaming on an August afternoon and has not stopped screaming since — not from distress but from enthusiasm, from the sheer volume of a life lived at full speed and full volume. Five years of dinosaurs, of climbing, of eating everything, of saying "more" like it is a manifesto. Five years of Diego.
The party: twenty kids, a backyard transformed into a dinosaur excavation site (Jessica's idea — she bought sand, buried plastic bones, and gave each kid a paintbrush and a bucket for "digging"). The kids spent two hours excavating fake fossils in 107-degree heat, which is either creative parenting or child endangerment depending on whether you trust the shade structure and the unlimited water supply. Nobody collapsed. Several fossils were found. Diego declared himself "the best digger" and nobody challenged him because challenging Diego is like challenging weather: futile and noisy.
The food: hot dogs and burgers (grilled, always), chicken nuggets (homemade, always), fruit, chips, and a dinosaur cake that Elena made — a green landscape cake with fondant dinosaurs that Diego refused to eat because "you do not eat dinosaurs, Abuela." The same refusal as last year. The boy is consistent. He will eat everything in the world except fondant dinosaurs, which he considers family.
Roberto's gift: a toy grill. A plastic Fisher-Price grill with plastic food and plastic tongs. Diego opened it, set it up next to the real grill, and immediately began "grilling" plastic burgers while narrating the process: "First you heat the fire. Then you put the meat. Then you wait. Then you flip. Then you eat." The kid has been watching. He has been absorbing. He is four steps into a five-step process and the fifth step — the seasoning, the rub, the marinade — will come when his vocabulary catches up to his instincts. Roberto watched Diego at his toy grill and said to me, "He will be better than both of us." I said, "He will be different than both of us. Different is fine." Roberto nodded. Different IS fine. The fire does not have to burn the same way in every generation. It just has to burn.
The nuggets at Diego’s party went fast — they always do, because when you make them from scratch, kids can tell the difference. But what I kept getting asked about, by parents hovering near the food table while their kids excavated fake dinosaur bones in the yard, was the dipping sauce. It’s nothing fancy: just this quick honey mustard I’ve been making for years, the kind of recipe that takes two minutes and tastes like you actually thought about it. Diego dipped every single nugget twice, and honestly, watching him work that toy grill next to Roberto’s real one, I figured I’d better write it down — because someday he’s going to want to make this himself.
Quick & Easy Honey Mustard
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 5 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 1/4 cup Dijon mustard
- 1/4 cup honey
- 2 tablespoons mayonnaise
- 1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
- 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
- Pinch of cayenne pepper (optional)
Instructions
- Combine. Add the Dijon mustard, honey, mayonnaise, and apple cider vinegar to a small bowl. Whisk together until fully smooth and no streaks remain.
- Season. Add the garlic powder, salt, and cayenne (if using). Whisk again to incorporate. Taste and adjust — more honey for sweetness, more mustard for bite.
- Rest (optional). For best flavor, cover and refrigerate for at least 15 minutes before serving. This lets the flavors come together. Serve chilled or at room temperature alongside chicken nuggets, grilled chicken, or as a sandwich spread.
- Store. Transfer any leftovers to a small jar or airtight container. Keeps in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks. Stir before each use.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 55 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 2g | Carbs: 9g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 135mg