When you start thinking about having a baby, you never think that you will also be known forevermore as “The cook”.
For the rest of your child’s life, you will be the keeper of the food, the maker of the food, the boss of the food, the decider of the food choices, food types and meal times. You will be food’s bitch so if you didn’t know how to cook prior to children, you certainly work out how to within about 4 months of baby number 1’s arrival.
When the kids are older, the one phrase all mothers hear at least once a day is “Muuuuum……..what’s for dinner?” This question alone can drive the most organized and sane mother to a hide in a cupboard and quiver.
“WHY ON EARTH DO YOU ALL NEED TO KNOW? FOOD IS FOR DINNER. OKAY? FOOD GLORIOUS FOOD!”
It’s the single most annoying statement a mother can hear. Every single day.
My cherubs have only just started asking about dinner, primarily because I have declared 2014 The Year of Meat and Veges. I’m not popular. However it wouldn’t matter WHAT I answer. Every night I’m met with “Awwwwwww, I don’t like that” by at least one child.
“Don’t eat then.”
“That’s all you’re having.”
“I’m only making one meal.”
“You will go to bed hungry.”
These are all standard responses from a mother who is a little beyond being dictated to by children aged one through to nine years of age. It’s easy to become a little jaded after being responsible for 9,855 meals (3285 dinners – uh huh).
Tonight I realized that I’m not alone but I shouldn’t whinge, my friends have it MUCH worse than me.
After thumping the opposition at netball, the Mama Bears hung around for a brief chat. Mrs H mentioned that Mr H is pissed because she has decided not to cook on Wednesday nights. Sport training, a feeding baby, limited time and life in general are prohibiting her from putting on the usual evening meal and therefore toast, muffins and other easy access carbohydrates are the order of the day. But he’s still pissed. The man wants food and somehow, somewhere along the line, it’s her duty to feed him. WTF?
Mr H – you know I love you but…….seriously. I can’t even breathe after hearing this. I would insert a feminist rant here but I can’t even process this. MAKE YOUR OWN DINNER. Better still, MAKE MRS H some dinner!!!! (I will go into the work is easier than being at home rant in a later post!)
It gets better, Mrs O trumped that story by telling us that Mr O doesn’t count sausages as real dinner because Mr O says sausages aren’t real meat. Whomever arrives home first cooks but god forbid if sausages are on the menu – he walks straight out to the local chicken shop to load up on our local Lebanese cuisine. Seriously. WTF? Mr O – you would possibly starve in this house!
OMG – If only the Big Guy knew how good these MOTH’S (men of the house) have it. He walks in each night, sheepishly walks around the kitchen looking for anything that may represent left overs from the cherubs and he dare not ask me what’s for dinner………..that question has already been asked at least 5 times that day.
What happens in your house? Are you asked what’s for dinner at 9am each morning? Does your partner expect you to be his or her cook as well as the cook for the kids?