Maybe it was the week in Greece this spring (yes, week in Greece - a once-in-a-lifetime family trip for a wedding - it was accordingly amazing and wonderful - yet here I am about to blog about potato chips - some things are for us, and some things are for the blog)...
Anyway, maybe it was the week in Greece without bedtimes or meal planning or dishes or laundry or commutes, but tonight I think I really tested my comfort with a relaxed approach to parenting.
The boys and I came home around 6:20 this evening, and before I could set the bags down, Squish asked if he could get a yogurt.
Normal answer: You can have a yogurt with dinner. Please be patient while I get everything ready.
Tonight's answer: Sure.
Bug, of course, also grabbed a yogurt out of the fridge.
As they sat with yogurts at the table, and before I could suggest a main course to accompany the yogurt, Bug asked if we could open the bag of chips left on the table from yesterday's Father's Day cookout.
Normal answer: Chips are a sometimes food. Let's focus on growing food, and then we'll see...
Tonight's answer: These? Well, okay... but try one first to see if you actually like them. [They are salt-and-vinegar chips.]
In a not-so-surprising turn of events, Bug and Squish liked the chips. So they each got a small handful.
At this point, they were eating yogurt and salt-and-vinegar chips on paper plates, and I still hadn't figured out a main course. Then I remembered my plan all along had been to feed them leftover "hamburgers," which for Bug are hamburger buns with ketchup (no meat involved), and for Squish are the meat without the bun. A very Jack Sprat situation.
When I couldn't find the hamburger in the refrigerator, I simply brought out two hamburger buns and some ketchup.
Worried that this meal needed some "balance," I went to the kitchen and found some applesauce and heated up a slice of pizza for each of them.
Then, to top it all off, my dinner was a strange concoction (some refried bean dip, guacamole, mango salsa, and tortilla chips) that made me think I was twenty again - until I poured myself half of a glass of rose. At which point it was almost like I was trying to be weird.
And then I remembered the following conversation in the car on the way home from preschool/Pre-K:
Squish: Where's Daddy?
Me: Daddy has a special dinner tonight with his friends from work. He will be home after you go to sleep and will give each of you a hug and kiss when you are sleeping. [Emphasis on the sleeping. Please go to sleep tonight. Please.]
Bug: Then who is going to cook us dinner?
Touché, little one. Touché.
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