I apologize before hand—I just needed to vent!
Dinner is my nemesis—my archenemy extraordinaire! We do battle every night, sometimes I win...sometimes He wins. But lately I feel like I end up having a panic standing in front of the fridge at 5:30.
I've found a way to slay this evil super villain, Dinner, but it feels like cheating. With a gallon of milk in one hand and a box of cereal in the other I knock Him back to tomorrow. But before He goes He stares me down with beady eyes and says, "That was a cheap trick...until tomorrow."(Imagine Him with a Russian accent—I do).
Part of the problem is that the children I slay Dinner for boo and hiss if I do it properly. Vegetable chicken stir fry and Enchiladas sit on the table UNTOUCHED!
Dinner chuckles in my ear menacingly (still in Russian) at 8:00 when my 6 year old says, "I'm hungry." I raise my fist to the sky and yell, "*X%# you, Dinner!" (insert mild swearing here...I am a Mormon mom after all.)
So for now I will kill Dinner with waffles, pizza, sandwiches, cereal, and macaroni and cheese—waiting for the day I learn to prepare better, my kids taste buds develop, or I get so old I can eat cheese and crackers and no one will care.
Maybe then I can make peace with Dinner.