The Cleavers would be horrified if they had been at my house last night.

I contiune to live in a delusional state that my kids might actually appreciate the effort of my cooking them a nice wholesome dinner, even if we cannot master the whole family dinner thing.  My husband and I love to cook when we have the time, by it's nights like last night that make me continue to feed the kids something out of a box.  

Last night I made a semi-homemade thanksgiving dinner.  I picked up a frozen, uncooked stuffed turkey breast (which I roasted), already made frozen gravy, and green beans.   It couldn’t have been easier and I was so pleased I got my butt in gear and was making a good meal. 

Well, let’s just say my enthusiasm ended there.  Here are some comments from my kids when I served them dinner:

“You are the worst mother ever.”
“Why do you never make food WE like?”
“It’s not thanksgiving you know.”
“I never wanted to live with you anyways.” 

I though that last one was a little harsh.   Can you image if the Beaver had said these things to June??

I demanded they TRY it.  They cried.  They howled.  It was a sorry sight.  I started counting.  (For some reason counting works wonders with my kids.  It's magic I tell you.)  “I am counting to 3 and if you do not try it, you are going up to bed immediately.”  They quickly picked up their forks.  They held their noses while they each put a bit in their mouths.  I'm telling you these kids could win awards for theatrics. 

JJ choked and gagged. 

“We don’t like it.”  They protested. 

JJ then had the nerve to ask me for dessert. 

“Dessert?  Are you kidding?  You did not eat any dinner. “

“But we tried it.”  He said. 

Needless to say, they did not have dessert.  

The frustrating part is that Sweet Pea would like it if she’d let herself.  She loves vegetables, fish, lamb, and steak.  She’s my “good” eater when she's in the right mood.   In JJ’s defense, he really seems not to like many foods, even after trying it.

At least my husband appreciated the effort.  He was thrilled to have dinner waiting for him when he got home.  Usually he has to come home and cook the dinner I am too tired to make.  (This is the primary reason I think I would be a shitty stay at home mom.  It’s EXHAUSTING being home.  But that’s a whole other issue.)

You know what’s for dinner tonight?  Pizza.