Dinner Fail

I was the epitome of domestic diva this evening. Or, well, almost. 

Water boiling for spaghetti on one burner, Italian sausage browning on another & vegetables sautéing on a third. In the oven were sliced tomatoes topped with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, pepper, mozzarella & basil. Sauce was warmed & waiting in the wings to become a part of the grand feast. The delicious smells of my efforts woffted through the house while visions of success in the form of happy, well-fed children filled my mind with unrealistic expectations. Surely their stomachs shall be full of gratitude. Surely their father will look at me & say, “All this AND you’re hot?”.


One child eventually tried it & thought it was good & cleaned his plate while the other fought every bite. The worst part is – I see them eat their boogers. They’ll eat boogers but not this delicious meal. 


And no, my husband did not gaze at me longingly as he was preoccupied with the defiant children. He did, however, remember that we had bought breadsticks which I’d forgotten. But he always appreciates my efforts. So there’s that. 

Fail. So much fail. 

Tomorrow is a new day. And guess what? These fools are getting hot dogs. This was a solid reminder to me to keep it simple. 


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