We just finished dinner. It wasn’t anything special.
Chicken, pasta shells, cheese and broccoli all mixed together.
Okay… who am I trying to fool? We had Chicken Helper- broccoli cheddar flavor. Please don’t judge. I love the stuff. It is fast. It is easy. And I don’t have to think about it when I am cooking.
Don’t judge. We don’t eat super healthy in my house. I know I have health nut friends out there that are thinking about how horrible of a mother I am for feed these processed foods to my kids. Yes, I do. I own it.
Anyway we sat down to eat with our single servings. I was waiting for the boys to complain about it. They are 5 and 7. They complain about almost everything I serve for dinner. They would probably complain if I made them eat hot fudge sundaes as their meal. (they’d want brownies instead).
But they didn’t complain. In fact, I am not sure they even took a breath while eating. Bubba scarfed. Dude shoveled. They were really hungry (I know because they told me every 2 minutes for over an hour.) Bubba asked for seconds. Dude asked for seconds. Bubba asked for more. He was not happy when I told him no.
As he was walking away in total sadness I said, “Wow! You must have really liked that,”
He responded with “Not really.”
Apparently I don’t understand growing boys.