Last night, I made chicken cacciatore for dinner. You would have thought I made liver & onions. I smothered the chicken with spaghetti sauce and melted mozzarella, but to no avail. They were not eating it. I felt myself getting huffy and exclaimed, "When I was a kid, my mother made me eat liver for dinner! Do you know what liver tastes like? It is the most disgusting thing in the world! I was not even allowed to leave the table until I ate what was on my plate!" Memories always come back to me when I think of the times my siblings and I had to eat something we didn't like. The time my brother tape-recorded my pitiful crying when I had to eat my vegetables, my sister hiding her food in her napkin, the sun setting and I'm still sitting there refusing to eat the nastiness, the times my father would threaten to make me eat my own vomit if I threw up. After dinner, my father would also say, "Do the dishes." What he actually meant was clean the whole kitchen from top to bottom. Not only do the dishes, but clean the kitchen counter, wash the table, sweep the floor, etc. etc. He would often joke that he had four dishwashers. When my mom stood at the stove cooking dinner, the mouth-watering smell wafted throughout the house and we would follow our noses into the kitchen and ask what was for dinner. Whenever we heard it was liver, our evening immediately went down the tubes. We all knew that it would be a torment to sit at the table and cough down the cow organ. I often wondered how something that smelled so good while it was cooking could taste so bad once it hit the plate. I think of the many battles at the table my parents had to deal with during my childhood as I look at the pitiful faces of my sons as they move their chicken around on their plates with their forks in one hand and their chins in the other. I remember the wails and whines of my brothers and sister. I recall the threats and the spankings and I made a decision. I told them to leave the table immediately. I know I am a bad parent for not making them eat every bite, but I realized that this is one battle that I just don't want. Because of the world we live in, there are bigger battles coming and I have to save my strength.
I'm really picky when it comes to romantic movies. I prefer them clean and it's really hard to find those kind of romance movies these days. Nowadays, romantic movies are chock full of butts, boobs, and beds. Just sayin'. I was bored one day and decided to google the top romance movies of all time. You have got to be kidding me. One list had Brokeback Mountain on it. Pulease. I was, in fact, so disgusted by all of the lists that I came across that I decided to make my own. I decided to call it The Top 16 Clean Romance Movies of All Time, well, because I couldn't think of anymore to make it an even top 20. Now, my list might be different from most people. I said I was picky. First, I don't like b***** women. That scratches out a whole pile of popular movies. One of them being Gone With The Wind. Does anyone besides me want to smack that woman? Second, I don't like it when the couple end up in bed together. Uh, I don't really need to know, thankyouverymuch. Th...
Comments
Well, sorry that your kiddos don't like chicken cacchiatore...I love the stuff so you can make it for me ANYTIME!:)
~Danielle
(sis)
I've known too many friends who had physical issues going on that made eating certain things very uncomfortable for them. Since they were too young to verbalize it to their parents, they had to deal with their bodies reacting badly to certain foods. I'm afraid we are with you on not wanting meal time a battle time either. I'll be a bad parent with you.