Shift Eating

The sound of the whine
Drills into my brain, turns left,
Rappels down my spine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I like to make a nice meal for Sunday dinner. It was something my mom always did (still does), and as often as I have the energy and inclination, I try to do the same. Today I had a special treat in mind – leg of lamb. The kids will eat lamb, so we make it every so often. Tonight it was paired with home made mashed potatoes, pan gravy and some vegetables. I was having fun being domestic.

And then my little boy, AB, aged 5, started. “Mom, I’m hungrrrrryyyyyy,” went the whine. I offered several snack options but none seem to meet his desires (shocking). For 45 minutes he kept on me but I stayed firm: “You can have more fruit, but that’s it… no, that includes no hot dogs, I’m making a nice dinner.”

And at 6:45 I pulled the lamb from the simmering oven where it was setting up, cut its little string bag open and discovered it was half raw. Now, I like rare lamb, but there is a distinct difference between rare and raw; this was still very much on the raw side of that line.

So a decision was made: we’ll eat the potatoes and veg now, give everyone a bath, and then come back for meat and dessert. (Meat and dessert, now there’s a restaurant idea…)

And the whining continued. “I don’t want any meat… I just want dessert”… “Do I have to take a bath?”…  “But I’m fuuullllllll!”  Even my 9 year old girl joined the whine fest.

And it hit me: Now I know why people feed their kids at 6pm, put them to bed and then have a civilized meal without children. I’ve always known about such practices, but just had never fully appreciated the benefits of such tactics. (As usual, I judged them just a wee bit as inferior parents who don’t really like their children.) Now I felt a reluctant kinship with these people. Here I was in the middle of an awkward meal mishap. Why in god’s name didn’t I shove chicken nuggets down their gullets at 6pm and save myself the pain and frustration of a two shift meal with reluctant diners.

We’ll see what happens… Frank has the kids upstairs bathing them. I’m tending the roast and making cookies, armed now with my meat thermometer and a few bites of raw cookie dough, hoping that once the roast sets up the temp will rise. They better damn well eat at least a bite of the blasted lamb.

Post script: Lamb was perfect and yummy. Kids enjoyed it. They are now in bed… ahhh, the silence.

Advertisements
Leave a comment

1 Comment

  1. I’m amazed that you can blog while also making roast and cookies simultaneously. Also I like your meat and dessert idea, sometimes after dinner I’d rather just eat more meat as opposed to just dessert.

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: