So, I was very housewifely today and by mid-afternoon I had two loaves of freshly-made bread on my kitchen counter and a pan of spinach lasagne assembled and waiting in the refrigerator to be baked for dinner. After making sure everyone knew that I would be putting the lasagne in the oven at five o’clock sharp and that it would be on the table precisely a half-hour later, I set the table, taking so much more care than I normally do that even Lydia remarked that it looked “very nice.”
Five-thirty came and I called everyone to the table. After some struggling, I got Tage settled into his high-chair with a plate of lasagne and a slice of bread and butter that he promptly refused to eat. Lydia settled in willingly and accepted her plate with thanks, but after taking a bite or two informed me that it was “very disgusting” and asked to be excused after eating the bare minimum. I ate my own portion with rapidly diminishing cheer while dealing with the kids, and Olof made a late appearance from his office when the rest of us were three-quarters of the way through the meal.
And people wonder why dinner fare around here is more often than not Top Ramen and frozen fishsticks.
I’ve had those days! One thing i’ve learned is to call Tor to the table before dinner is even done. That way by the time he gets around to moseying on down, the dinner is just going on the table.
Ah hon, you’re singin’ to the choir!
E refuses to eat anything that’s not cheese or bread or kraft mac & cheese. Luckily B eats quite well although her tastes are changing and things she said she liked last week she doesn’t want to eat the next. Sigh. R is never home at the same time – more often than not he get’s in the door around 7. Ack!
Argh! I think this kind of thing is the bane of every wife and mother! At least we know we’re not alone! 😉