Dinner Theatre

At some point dinner at our house has to stop being a three ring circus show, it really does. It’s usually not Mr. C., though sometimes it can be if we try to hard to make him eat such difficult items as guacamole, any veggie other than broccoli (let’s not even talk about what happens if he even suspects salad may appear) or any type of potato served any other way than baked whole or fried. At least I have a clearly defined set of problems with him that I can usually operate within.

Miss G, however, tends to be difficult at every turn. Unless it is Mac and Cheese or Chicken Nuggets, it really need not apply. I am not going to go into what happened last week when I dared to serve a simple baked ziti because, quite frankly, I just don’t have the strength to revisit it. Here’s how it usually goes….dinner is on the table…five minutes later, we manage to convince her through a series of threats to join us. She does, for a moment and then needs to go to the “bafroom”. Comes back, sits down, picks at food and realizes whatever doll she is wanting to dine with that evening is not present. She must go get her friend, lest they feel left out. Sits back down for a moment and toys with our emotions by picking at her food. At that point, it’s time for the talent show portion of our meal which involves either a quick cheer or a dance routine. Lucky for us, we get this for free, some people pay for dinner theatre.

We’d pay not to have it.

Yelled at again, and now becoming annoyed at us for not appreciating her amazing dinner time talent, sits down, looks hard at food, and proclaims it “DISGUSTING”. This is the point where the threats of no desert start to kick in. She argues, she insists she needs another beverage, she puts a bite in her mouth and cries and the poisonous gruel we have put in front of her begins to take effect. The Man has always lost it at this point and demands she finishes eating. The crying begins in earnest at this point at which both of her parents turn against her. At some point, she will run screaming from the table to swear she does not want to eat another thing all night and we clear the table in our attempts not to create an early onset food issue of some sort. Jokes on us though as 20 minutes later when we are not looking she sneaks upstairs with one of the following: A baggie full of Goldfish, several packages of Cheetos or….if we are really lucky….a tub of chocolate Blue Bell ice cream that we find the next day after it has tuned into chocolate soup.

Now, I have to say here, had I ever acted like this once, just once, at dinner, my mother would have quietly put down the cigarette she was smoking to enhance the flavor of the food and without batting an eye sent me sailing halfway across the room. She was just that good and I was scared shitless of her.

We obviously don’t employ the same tactics, what with the whole CPS system and all, and tonight went about our usual dinner time exercise in futility. We served the ever offensive taco and quesadilla dinner and she wasn’t having any of it. Sophie, the doll joined us, (face down on the table, ass out…really not appropriate at all) then she tried to hang her Disney iPod on her Dad’s head, and before the dancing portion of the dinner could commence, Daddy called a halt to the entire thing and ended the show before the closing credits could roll. Miss G was escorted to another room, reprimanded and told not only would we lock the pantry to avoid the late night raid, no cartoons…and….she would have to go to her room and quietly read a book instead. The screams were primal and loud, and endless. I’m a little shocked the neighbors didn’t come next door to see if we were doing some type of human sacrifice, and if they could partake in it. In the end, with a whimper and a sigh, she went to her room with a book about counting bunnies and I found her there 10 minutes later quietly reading it…with her swim goggles on.

At least know I now what it takes to get her to read a book on her own.


6 Comments


  1. Deb said:

    The antics in your home make me feel warm and fuzzy all over!! Thank God some else experiences the wrath of dinner time we have no theatre - we seem to always have itching powder in our chairs as our asses cannot stay in the chair at all - not a one of them and there are 3! Aaahh the family dinner - what fun!
    Love it all M - you’re doing a great job well, the ads do leave a little to be desired don’t they read so they know you are not the MOMMY MERMAID TYPE!
    Keep up the good work!
    Deb

  2. Jennifer said:

    I so love this blog. You’ve managed to maintain your delivery in written word that is so enjoyable in person. And I love that i’m not the only one with a picky kid eater. Will they ulitmately turn into a McDonald’s chicken nugget. And if they do can we sell them?

  3. Mary Anne said:

    I think for all the work we put in, if they are going to turn into some time of sellable food, it should be a rare Beluga Caviar so that we at least get a little profit for all our hard work. Plus, we will all need the money to afford a lawyer when we get busted for selling them in the first place. See? This brain just never stops workin…. :)

  4. Maria S. said:

    Oh THANK GOD I am not alone!!!!! Thank God, thank God, thank God!!!!!! This goes on every single night at home - except the accepted items at my house are hot dogs, chicken nuggets, luncheables (yes, for dinner - sue me) and cantaloupe. Anything else is “SICK” and requires endless threats, yelling, crying…you get the idea.
    That is why this blog exists!
    XoXo,
    M

  5. The Stiletto Mom said:

    [...] night, just killing time while Miss G is at practice. I am happy to tell you, one family in America that has less fun at dinner than mine [...]

  6. Maria S. said:

    Just read it! Funny!!!
    Night.
    M


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