Sunday, December 29, 2013

Please Don't Ever Ask Me...

"What's for dinner?"

This question drives me insane. Every time. The assumption kills me.

It's bizarre, because I know I'll be making dinner. I'm Mom - Boy 3 or 7 obviously won't be whipping up the lasagna tonight. I know that when the day is done, the people will come and home and they will be hungry. The next step will require that a meal called "dinner" be served at the table. I know this because it happens every day. Yet, when I'm asked this question, I still feel like throwing a wooden spoon at that person.

It's like they know the best time to ask this in order to get the biggest annoyance level out of me is either right after breakfast, right after lunch, when I'm folding enough laundry to clothe every student at the kids' school, carrying a "too many bags in one trip" amount of groceries from the car, lying on the couch with a pounding headache, on the phone…ok, let's face it, any time.

It's like this: I know I have to make dinner. The kids know I'll be making dinner. I also know that they'll groan at whatever the answer is unless I say "Pizza and ice cream with Coke!" or "Doughnut sundaes!" (I just made that up) So I wish they'd just end this charade and stop asking me the dreaded question and be grateful that they have food on the table.

Parents: What's your equivalent to this bitch of a question?

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