It's been a rough week for dinner in our household. Perhaps I am a bit spoiled by my daughters' general enthusiasm for meals, even those including swiss chard, kale, and mushrooms. I certainly didn't see the gag reflexes coming on Monday when I made stuffed chicken breasts with quinoa and spinach, and on Wednesday when we had meatballs with pineapple and rice. The spinach wasn't like normal spinach, apparently. And the meatballs were "too peppery."
The complaining, and sighing, and retching were a bit much for me last night. I threatened to quit.
"No more cooking," I declared.
"I will serve only carrot sticks and sliced turkey from now on," I promised.
Ears perked up. "Or how about macaroni and cheese?" Big Sis suggested. So Not Getting The Point.
This evening, as I headed home with both girls in the car, the inevitable question arose.
"Mom, what are we having for dinner?"
"Something you don't like."
Silence.
And then, Little Sis: "Mommy, I don't want to have something I don't like for dinner."
"I want to have something I like."
"Is there any leftover macaroni and cheese?"
No comments:
Post a Comment