Making Dinner Sucks

I love my family.  I have a wonderful husband and an incredible daughter.  But making them dinner every night, night after night, has worn me down.  No one likes the same things and I’m convinced I’d have an easier time finding Bin Laden than I would finding something my whole family can enjoy at dinnertime.      

My husband is from Missouri and was raised on the four basic food groups: meat, fried meat, gravy, and cheese.  I used to wonder why they call Missouri the “Show Me” state, but now I know it means, “show me the way to the high cholesterol medicine.”   My eight year old on the other hand, is a very picky eater.  She’ll only consume simple foods like bread (no butter), spaghetti (no sauce), and bland foods (no taste).  And nothing can touch one another on the plate or else all hell will break loose, so foods like casseroles, stir fries and omelets are a big fat no-no.  She doesn’t eat much at all actually I’m convinced she exists on spores that float freely in the atmosphere.  Me?  I prefer healthy foods like salads and fish (only to counteract the effects of the cookie dough and canned frosting I consumed earlier that day).   

So as you can see, making dinner every night is quite a struggle.  But I guess it’s worth it when we’re all sitting around the table, talking about our day.  In time, maybe my kid’s taste buds will mature, my husband will enjoy eating healthy foods, and they’ll finally catch that damned Bin Laden.  But I certainly wouldn’t hold my breath.


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