Dinner. Why is dinner so stressful? Why can't it just be like lunch where everyone has a little something like PB&J or a bowl of soup? Already at 3:30 my daughter Rachel is asking, "Mom, what's for dinner?" Really? My husband is home this week too and she didn't bother to ask him. When I turned to my husband at this point and asked him what he wanted, he said he didn't care. This pressing issue is apparently my problem to solve, and pronto!
Food is a big issue in our family. Rachel will only eat meat (plain) and select carbs, sometimes a bit of fruit. Needless to say she has some slight digestive issues due to her diet. I had stomach surgery about six years ago and can only eat small select portions. Shayna is a typical four year old and her preferences change like the wind. Hannah is pretty much my only child who will happily eat what I place in front of her. It is hit and miss with my husband because I never seem to make him food he is "in the mood for" when he comes home. Often I will leave his portion on the warmer only to find him digging into a bowl of cereal because he just wasn't "in the mood" for what I had made that evening.
So, this being my vacation also, I told the family I needed to pick up a few things at the store and would come home with dinner as well. I happily went off on my own to the supermarket.
I love going to the store. I think it started when the twins were babies. I would often try to go grocery shopping when my husband was home ( otherwise I would be pushing the the double stroller and pulling the wagon). No list, just me and my wagon leisurely strolling down the aisles. Humming to the easy listen music, checking out the new and ridiculous products being sold, occasionally catching a free sample, just escaping....
Unfortunately this trip had to be short because I left my husband alone with three hungry children who were told they could not open their last Hanukkah present until after dinner. I had no choice but to be quick and hopefully come home with something that would satisfy the angry mob. Thank goodness for Deli chicken, I grab one and a few sides as soon as I spot the familiar container.
I walked in the door laden with groceries ( because everyone knows this is what happens when you go in for "just a few things") to the point that I almost fall over. Rachel comes running up to me.
"What did you buy?" Not once did she try to help me with the bags.
"Chicken", I said.
::insert really LOUD scream:: "NOOOO!"
Apparently I failed in my mission. However, she did calm down when she found out I picked up the fried chicken and not the rotisserie kind ( they were out, otherwise I WOULD have). The angry mob was satisfied for the moment.
"What's for dessert?"
©2011 Amy E. Silverstein. All rights reserved.