A Jen Too Many

Why is it no-one in this family can figure out what there is to eat? Every single member of this family will come and stand before me when they are hungry and ask me what there is to eat. When I ask them what they want to eat, they all say the same thing: "I don't know!" This is pronounced in a tone of voice that makes it clear that I have taken leave of my senses. How could they possible know what they want to eat? That's my job! I refuse, however, to fall into that trap. If I start trying to list things it will take years and cost millions of lives, and we will still never come to an agreement on what they think will taste good and what I am willing to prepare.

So I pronounce ultimatums.

"You can have an apple. If you don't want an apple, you can have a carrot or a celery stick. We also have bread. Those are your options."

It's amazing how quickly the people who couldn't think of anything they wanted, suddenly are full of ideas that don't involve vegetables, fruit or bread - all of said ideas involving work on my part, of course.

I've got The Boy Child and Husband Darling trained to do most of their own cooking* The girls, however, are still young enough that I don't want them using the stove. Oldest Girl Child is allowed to do some cooking with strict supervision and much trepidation on her mother's part; Youngest Girl Child is not allowed near hot burners yet.** The girls do know how to make sandwiches and similar items, however, and we make cookies once a week (learning about fractions, volume, and that unsweetened baking chocolate is pretty nasty when you try to eat it straight.)

My goal is to eventually have everyone in the family responsible for their own breakfast and lunch. I would only have to plan and prepare dinner every night. Currently, TBC is never home at dinnertime, and Husband Darling is rarely home then, so they are excused from cooking it; the girls, however, are going to be taking their turns at making dinner as soon as they are old enough. My excuse is that this is to teach them to be self-sufficient.*** But now you all know the truth. I'm just lazy.
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*Kind of - The Boy Child is trained. Husband Darling will prepare his own food about half the time. The other half of the time he looks pathetic and starving and too weak to move. Then I rush to fix him something and he recovers very nicely.

**She touched a cherry-red burner when she was two, giving herself a third degree burn on her index finger, and I still haven't recovered.

***I knew a girl in high school who used to brag that she didn't know any traditional womanly skills, in particular cooking. Even then, I thought that was pretty stupid; I have never thought that being able to take care of yourself was particularly demeaning. Neither do I find helplessness particularly empowering.