Dinner Time

Dinner time has to be one of the most stressful parts of parenting young children, second only to potty-training.  If more sex-ed classes included meal-time footage of the dinner table, we'd have a lot less kids getting their driver's license the same time they receive baby-formula vouchers.  So what's so bad about dinner time?

First of all, there's the mess.  At some point, you have to let your children learn how to feed themselves.  The problem is kids lack coordination.  I've seen spoons full of Spaghetti-O's miss the mouth entirely and crash right into a cheek.  I've seen mashed potatoes bypass the mouth entirely, in an attempt to take the scenic route through the nose.   In time, they often overcome this debilitating ailment, though some live an entire lifetime never able to hold an open-container full of liquid without spilling it.

It's not any better if you're the one feeding the child.  From what I've seen, babies are born with mad kung-fu skills.  Just when you think those sweet peas are about to enter sweet rest inside your child's mouth, your kid hits you with a "Wax-On/Wax-Off" move that sends peas flying across the room.

Lack of coordination can lead to a serious drinking problem.

Besides spilling colored juices and chocolate milk onto light-colored carpets, young children also have a tendency to decorate with food instead of eating it.  It's gotten so bad with our daughter that we have to keep her topless at the dinner table.  If table nudity is frowned upon, I recommend having a special "eating" shirt for your kids to wear.

Don't decorate. MASTICATE!!!

What make the messiness even grosser is the fact that the older kids, don't ever seem to care how messy they get.  The boy is old enough to wash his hands and face by himself.  So why is it that he can't seem to wipe dinner off his jaw when he's done eating?  Sometimes, I'll just let him and the girl both walk around with food on their face to see how long it takes them to notice.  They never do.  The girl has walked around the house with a 70's porn 'stache made of pudding for the better part of an entire day.

You can get used to the mess after awhile.  The hardest moments at dinner time revolve around the act of eating.  Trying to get the kids to eat is like trying to get our dog to stop licking her naughty bits.  Neither one happens often and even if they do the end result is bad breath.  First off, you have to deal with the whining.

The Boy:  What's for dinner Dad?

Me:  I'm making pasta roll-ups.

The Boy:  Ewww.  I don't like those.

Me:  I have never made these before in my entire 32 years of existence on this planet.  You don't know if you like it or not.

The Boy:  Can I have chicken nuggets?

It doesn't matter what I make for dinner.  The kids will say they hate it and then we begin a ten-minute discussion on why they can't have nuggets, a sandwich, or Pop-Tarts for dinner.  Lately, I've found that if I just say it has cheese in it the discussion will stop.  Kids love cheese.

 Especially in stick form.

 Once dinner is actually on the table, the negotiations for chocolate milk begin.  If my kids had their way, they would live off of chocolate milk alone.  To them, the meals are just the dirty work they have to do before they can receive their payment of chocolate gold.  The kids offer up their deals:

The Boy:  Dad, how about I take five bites and then I can have some milk?

Me:  No, you need to eat your food.

The Boy:  Okay, how about I take five bites of pasta and three bites of corn?

Me:  Eat your food.

The Boy:  Listen Daddy.  I'll take ten bites of food.  Then I'm going to need some chocolate milk?

At this point, I usually threaten to take away something he loves (usually his hanger) if he doesn't quiet down and eat up.  At least the boy might have a bright future in hostage negotiations.

Once they finally eat enough to satisfy the cook, they are allowed to have their precious milk.  Approximately twenty minutes later comes the most frustrating phrase in existence.

Dad?  I'm kinda hungry.