I simply did not feel like cooking dinner tonight. Okay so I never feel like cooking on Sunday nights. I don’t know why. But Sunday nights are often breakfast for dinner nights where I make pancakes or eggs and toast or canned soup or something relatively easy. Still, rarely do I feed my children flat out junk food but the other night my husband and I went out to dinner for our anniversary and so the children stayed home and ate dinner with a babysitter. Junk food was in order that night. Corn dogs and tater tots to be exact.
Tonight all of us have a bit of a cold and I just did not feel like cooking anything that required the use of even 1/8 of an ounce of brain matter in order to cook it. So I made a repeat of Friday night’s kid meal because we had more of the same in the freezer.
My husband and I joked about how very yellow this meal was looking. It was shaping up to be the blandest looking meal we might ever consume.
We felt like extras in Napolean Dynamite’s high school cafeteria. Many a tots quote was invoked as we ate our vapid meal.
To top off this “meal”, also known as Rachel Ray’s worst nightmare come true, yesterday we had a distinct need for a frozen treat of some sort for dessert. As I waited in line I sent my five year old to do the honors of picking out which frozen treat we would consume. He chose a store brand (economical, isn’t he?) variety box of highly sugarized, surely highly colorized and otherwise generally unhealthy probably chemically treated frozen treats.
So tonight the children were to eat an incredibly junk foody dinner followed by an equally junk foody dessert. Yup. Mid-meal I am feeling like the worst mother ever. I know it’s not a crime to eat like this once in a blue moon but whenever I do feed them in such a manner I feel like the centerpiece of shame at a global gathering of motherly types. I’m back pedalling by assuring you that some of my childrens’ favorite meals include things like asparagus, brussel sprouts and their latest new fave, parsnips!
The children were beginning to get antsy for their positively evil dessert and thus began balking at eating the rest of their dinner. As a matter of principal I began to insist that they eat their dinner if they wanted their dessert though secretly I questioned whether or not the dinner was any healthier than the dessert!
“Mom… I can’t finish my corn dog…”
“Well, you can’t have dessert… if you don’t finish your corn dog.”
I suddenly felt like an idiot for having just said that. Now if you know our family you know that we have a flair for sarcasm so I then reworded my ultimatum.
“Son, you must eat your yellow No. 5 if your want your Red no. 40.”
Dad followed up with a stern, “And if you want your cellulose and xanthan gums you must, absolutely MUST finish your polysorbate 60 and Diacetyl!”
“I am hereby making a family rule that if you don’t finish your sorbic acid you may not have even one bit of high fructose corn syrup!”
Between this and the fact that my husband spent much of the meal speaking of the repugnant and putresence of the color of our meal in the voice of Sir Winston Churchill I could barely keep from choking on my tots and wetting myself.
Everyone eventually had their fill of all the evil fillers and additives that we had in such bountifully copious amounts at our table tonight. I did manage to swallow some of my food despite my husband’s blatant attempts at murdering me by performing a comedy act while I made my best attempt at maceration.
Yeah. This was a low point.