It’s not so much the cooking I hate, it’s the THINKING OF WHAT TO MAKE. Also, the “What’s for dinner?”"I HATE that! Yuck! I’m NEVER eating that!” completely de-moralizes me and I defend myself with bitchy behavior and snappy comments — which every parent aspires to do — so that I just want to crawl under my feather blanket and eat popcorn for my dinner and let them fend for themselves.
But I knew if I did that, they (the 7 and 9 year old) would satisfy themselves with macaroni and cheese or top ramen for the rest of their lives. So I mentally drag myself from the blankets and make veggies and rice or quinoa, and put on a raincoat to their hurtful comments; the kids complain through dinner and my husband threatens to make fish heads for dinner next time.
Ahh. The family dinner.