Three different meals in one night? This cannot be true. Doesn’t anybody remember the days of “eat that Swedish meatball/fish pie/liver and onion surprise, or go to bed hungry”? We all survived it — well maybe that’s a stretch. I’m sure someone was done in by Rumaki at some point in human history, and certainly more than one innocent child has been forever emotionally scarred by a plate of organ meats, but still, can it really be that there are parents out there who are actually going through the hell of getting three different meals on the table at once after cocktail hour has begun? How can this be? I mean really, making one decent meal a night is freakin’ hard enough, but three different ones? And if this is going on in the UK, where people are far more practical than over here in the land of Everybody’s Special, can you imagine what’s happening in kitchens across the US? Are Americans making five meals a night?
Now, I’m not entirely sure how I stumbled upon this article, but I can tell you this: There is absolutely no way anyone should be making multiple meals at any time or for any reason. That’s why God, in His infinite wisdom, invented cereal. Now, is Cheerios an adequate, nutritious meal? Not every night of the week, but it can easily be prepared by even the most the recalcitrant four year-old, it does not create much in the way of extra clean up, and as an occasional dinner it probably will neither kill nor traumatize even the spleeniest, most specialest child.
I’ve got to say that this article has really rocked my world. It may have been some time since I grappled with a finicky child, but I can certainly recall occasions when the little Slattern’s dinner consisted exclusively of rice and salt. On nights like that the only way peas made it into her body was through her nose, and let me tell you extracting them took some little effort. But whatever, the next morning she’d wake up hungry and happily tuck into scrambled eggs and apple slices for breakfast and no one was any the worse for wear. Unless of course we’d had to perform some nasal fracking the night before. (By the way, I have found that a little black pepper on the upper lip consistently produces a sneeze strong enough to dislodge event the most deeply impacted produce.)
Posted on June 26, 2012, in Cooking, Drudgery, Friendly Advice and tagged Cheerios, Daily Mail, Dinner, exhausted parents, Family life, Fracking, Humor, Peas. Bookmark the permalink. 22 Comments.
It’s eat it or starve over here.
The only pro I can think of to three different meals would be three different cocktail hours… Nah. Who I am kidding? My cocktail “hour” usually lasts significantly longer than sixty minutes so it would most likely be after midnight before the last meal prep was done. And at that point I would be at a loss trying to find the “directions” on the cereal box!
THERE you have it.
Crazy, and yet, I can almost imagine. I was babysitting some kids the other week and had to make two meals for every dinner – one for the adults/big kids and a very boring meal for the two youngest kids who are picky eaters. It was unreal to me!
It’s one thing if you’re getting paid to rustle grub, but for free? Never.
This study could also be interpreted to say that one in three mothers is crazy. Stark, raving mad. If The Kidling won’t eat what I’ve made, then she can eat the parts she does like and pout. Good enough for The Mama!
That’s just crazy! That’s a good way to raise spoiled, finicky people. What goes on in America? Moms and dads take their kids to fast food restaurants. Only one per night, though. Convenience is the key! (Sorry – didn’t mean to offend all American parents.)
Offend anyone you like here. We don’t judge. In fact, I personally prefer potentially offensive statements. That’s just the way I roll.
This is nuts. It seems that making three different meals in a night is the path of least resistence to some. Heaven forbid that a parent should actually have to say no. Could scar a child for life.
I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to get three different meals on the table simultaneously, but I’d rather set myself on fire than try.
I learned to cook because my mom told me I could cook my own dinner if I didn’t like what she put on the table. Unfortunately this is what she wanted because then it became my job to cook dinner for my little brothers. Sneaky, smart, evil woman!
A role model for us all. 😉
Cereal–it’s not just for breakfast anymore! I’ve been seriously considering setting a box of O’s on the table as an alternative to slaving away in the kitchen, trying to please my various children’s and step-children’s palates. I give in! Everyone will be happier.
One meal, one option. It’s the only way to survive the daily horror-terror-dinner. Thanks for dropping in!
Stay strong! And a little tipsy!
Let them help. Even the youngest tot can be trained to turn the spit in the fireplace. After a while introduce knives, then cooking. Once you’ve taught them how to cook the tykes can make their own dinner and make a fine plate for you.
And then of course, we’ll get the mice to do the clean-up!
One ‘gourmet’ meal a night is enough. People are insane.