Hissy Fit

I am asked the same question everyday around five o'clock. You would think, by now, I would have an answer. The question: "What's for dinner?" No matter where I am, via text, phone call or in person, someone in my family will contact me to find out what brilliant and delicious plan I have lined up for dinner. Frankly, it's torture; mainly because I don't know what's for dinner. I know I'm supposed to know, since I am the one doing the cooking and all, but I don't have a clue.

Figuring out what to cook for supper is difficult. There was a time when I would eat just broccoli or rice and butterbeans for dinner, but now (and by now I mean since the children quit eating baby food-they are 19 and 15) there are so many factors to take into consideration just to get supper on the table. The biggest factor is, like the rest of today's generation, there are many foods they don't like. I know some families dealing with children that don't like entire food groups-good Lord, there are only four of them! I would have to say this is a point of contention with me. When did children start getting the option of not liking an entire food group?  If I could go back and change one thing, I would have started feeding my children Cobb salad, shrimp, and tomatoes by the bushel at age two, and they wouldn't even know what a chicken nugget is (afterall, does anyone truly know what a chicken nugget is). I tell my children that they can't be true Southerners if they won't eat shrimp or tomatoes. How can you not like shrimp and tomatoes growing up in the Lowcountry? I'm just appalled.

So my challenge each night is to figure out what's for supper, making it both nutritious and delicious, and something everybody likes, with a repertoire of about seven foods.

I'm not one of those moms who puts curses on their children, but I'm highly considering making a change. My mom put a curse on me when I was a teenager. I remember it vividly. She said in a low Southern growl, with her teeth somewhat clinched, "I can't wait for you to have children and I hope they act just like you!" She gave me the evil eye when she said it, too. I'm not saying it's working because I was not a picky eater as a child, but I am not a curse expert. It may not have to be tat for tat, so this could be a part of the curse.

Then of course there are those women, and I know some of you are reading this, that prepare all the meals for the week on Sunday and properly store and freeze them. Congratulations.you make me barf. Are you kidding me? This should be against the women's code of honor. Who wants to spend all day Sunday cooking what you had to spend all day Saturday figuring out and shopping for? That kind of efficiency is just not in my DNA. These are probably the same women who when their children ask them what's for dinner, they direct them to look at the fridge for the monthly menu. I would try this, but I don't like paper or magnets all over my fridge. I also don't grocery shop for more than two or three days at a time. This way I can spend way more time and money than I need to and never have everything I need. I'm aware of the pitfalls of my method-and no my pantry is not stocked with the basics. As if I actually need chicken stock to order a pizza.

There is also the "having more than one child" factor to consider. For instance, one likes pepperoni pizza, the other sausage. At breakfast, one likes sausage, the other bacon. At lunch, one likes turkey, the other ham. And the one who likes ham, only likes it on a sandwich. If you put the same exact ham in an omelette, he'll pick it out and leave it on his plate. This actually forced me to put a curse on him. One day, I said in a low Southern growl, with my teeth somewhat clinched, and one eye looking particularly evil, "I hope the only thing your children will eat are grapes, and you have to peel them!" It was the most tedious thing I could think of while under duress without having an official book of curses.

I know you blame me and you're thinking, "Just make what you want, and if they don't eat, they can go hungry." But then I have to look at their sad little faces staring into the cabinet off and on all night waiting for a culinary miracle to appear.

Well, it's almost five o'clock and I'm expecting a phone call. I've got to make a quick decision if we'll have grilled chicken and canned green beans tonight or canned green beans and grilled chicken. Hey, at least we all sit down for dinner together, at the kitchen table, television turned off, blessing said, and enjoy each other's company. That's what it's really all about anyway. Amen.