What are we having for breakfast/lunch/dinner?

I don't know what it is about this question that just sends my blood boiling. It's on par with "are we there yet?" which is just a step down from the non-stop "WHY?" of a three-year old.

Typically, when one of my kids asks this, he thinks he is on the verge of DYING OF HUNGER. As if we live in a remote village, far, far away from the nearest source of rice and clean water and we must start walking NOW. As if the last meal didn't come in a timely manner and, since the last meal, I've been rendered armless, adding more time between meals, further complicating the issue of dying of hunger before age ten.

So, I slapped a rule onto the "What are we having for MEAL D'JOUR?": DON'T ASK BECAUSE I'M NOT GOING TO TELL!!!

Yes, I have become the meanest-Mommy-on-planet-Earth and FORCE my kids to wait until they are seated at the table to find out what's on the menu. This has served two VERY important purposes:
1. I've stopped being asked the most overused question in culinary history.*
2. I've stopped the (in)voluntary facial responses** about what will be placed on the table should the inquisitioner ever stop asking me this question and will actually let me cook!

Yes, I said it. My kids don't always like what I make. In fact, they wrinkle their noses more than I wish. And, they comment. Lots. "I don't like carrots". "We had that last December". "WHYYYYYY?"

If I don't volunteer the information before their bums hit the seats, they haven't a clue what glorious tidbits are coming their way and, more importantly, by the time I am placing platters and bowls on the table, I have backup! In the form of Mike. Who will SHUT THEM DOWN.

To give my boys credit where credit is most definitely due: they are often thankful for the bounty placed before them and say so, not only to me but to God. Those times when they forget to thank me, I'm reminded that I'm not always thankful "in all times and all places", but that I'm awfully blessed to live in a country where I can consistently put healthy food on the table for my family.

Even if they won't willingly eat it....



*I so feel for you, poor restaurant laborers, who are forced to entertain the endless question "what are the specials tonight?"

**I've never once announced the following meal: "We're having boiled goose kidneys with beet salad in tarragon sauce surrounded by poached eggs. OH, and rutabaga. Raw." So, what gives with the screwed up facial expressions?