Homemade Taco Seasoning is Disgusting.

Why did I have to quadruple the recipe?

Why, Oh Why, Did I Open That Jar of Nutella?

I knew it was a bad idea!

And why did Superstore have that stupid deal where you have to buy two to get the good price?!

And why did I fall for it!?!

What Could Be Better?

It started earlier this week with a bowl of Breyers Brownie Mudpie.

But it wasn't salty enough.

The next bowl had a bit of peanut butter stirred in. Yum. Almost like a Ben & Jerry's flavour.

The next one was the same.

But that got old.

Tonight I discovered the chocolate sauce in the fridge.

I have arrived.

The brownie mudpie. The peanut butter. The fudge sauce.

Good thing I have also arrived at the end of the box.

Where's The Candy?

I knew I'd regret this decision. (click here)

I just didn't know I'd regret it so soon.

Now What?

I decided to go with my cousin Jodi's theory.(click here)

And after Star Wars and limitless sugar had induced a catatonic state

I explained the dangers of sugar

to their newly forming grown-up teeth

and to their mental capacity to retain spelling words and

other equally critical scholastic information

and to their athletic prowess on the netball court and soccer field

and to the respiratory and cardiovascular health

of their distant future.

They agreed that the risks were much too great and gathered up all of their sugar and dumped it into one enormous UNICEF bag, which I promised I would, under no conditions, throw away.

So, now what do I do with all of it?

Dallin, hide it from me.

Hide it deeply.

Like, in Milwaukee.

How Did I Get Here?

The short answer is that my mother cursed them on me.

The longer answer is that I arrived at this state--

"No that doesn't count as a bite. I said three bites, not two. A bite means you fill up your spoon. You like carrots. It's just chicken. It's only parsley. Parsley isn't a vegetable, it's a spice. It's just like salt and pepper, only green. If you finish the whole bowl, you can have another biscuit. Yes, of course, including the corn..."

--the longer answer is that I arrived at this ridiculous bite-counting, vegetable-pushing, guilt-creating state out of complete desperation. Tonight at dinner I felt that I negotiated deals more complex than NAFTA. I swore I would never visit this state. I think I said something about not even visiting this country.

I remember being four and watching my brother do the airplane thing with a bite on a fork. He was the best! It had neat "vrrrrrrrrrrr" and "bddddd" sounds, and loops and turns and dives. And I watched it all with my mouth open and I remember thinking, "There is no way I'm going to keep my mouth open when he tries to put the bite in." And time after time I clamped my mouth shut just as the airplane made its final descent to the landing strip.

And later I was eight and left at the table "until you finish your dinner." I think once I sat there for nine hours. I knew my mom was mad. But I also knew I would stay there for nine months if I had to. And finally I would be sent to my room with no supper (which, of course, was exactly the result I wanted.) And then that same wonderful older sibling would sneak crackers and cheese down to me. I think he thought there was a real possibility of starvation.

I entered parenthood committing to myself that I would not get sucked into this picky-eater nonsense. Well, actually, I was not going to have any picky eaters, but since that didn't work out, I went to plan B. Do not get emotionally involved. I knew it didn't work.

A while back a woman with eight grown children told me that if she were to do dinner-times again with her kids she wouldn't fight it at all. If they wanted five buns and no soup that would be fine with her. Everyone could have dessert regardless of whether they ate anything or not. Mealtime was about family togetherness, not about food. Is she right? By the way, all eight of her children have been quite rebellious and the two I know are obese. Does this give her theory less clout?

Well, as of tonight, I am currently touring this miserable state, but I think I'll take the next plane ride home. I hope it makes neat sounds and loops and dives. And I hope it finds a place to land.

Why Can't The Hot Dog Bun People...

...and The Hot Dog People Get Together On This?

I'm so sick of 8 hotdogs and 12 hotdog buns. It only works if you have a family who is going to eat hot dogs in multiples of 24.

What Would I Do Without Cold Cereal?

It saw me through two decades of picky eating.
I think it saw my mother through too.
It provides a morning off every Sunday.
It sustains me through 3 AM pregnancy hunger pains.
It answers, "What's for dinner?" in two easy steps--pour ceral, pour milk.

In the last 24 hours it has been three meals (including one at 3 AM).

Was Sugar Invented Back Then?

We argued with our children this morning about whether they could put more sugar on their cold cereal.

Dallin helpfully reassured them that when he was a boy, he never got sugar on his cereal.

Chas wanted to know: "Was sugar invented yet when you were little?"

What Could Be Worse For A Body Than Charred Inflated Sugar?

That fire is made completely of our garbage.

Why Do They Want To Eat EVERY Day?

I don't remember eating so often.
Or being fed so often.
Did my mom make dinner EVERY night?

I think it will be cold cereal tonight.

Only because we already had hot dogs for lunch, so I can't do that again.