I like it hot. I like it really hot. I enjoy it more, the hotter it is. I mean who doesn’t? There was a while there that I thought I’d never have it hot again. Nobody warns you that once you have kids all hope of having it hot, goes right out the window. I was holding out hope that as my son got older I’d get back to having it hot, but that has yet to be the case. Just once, that’s right just once, I would like to have hot dinner.
Is it too much to ask, that a the end of a long day working, schlepping kids, and making dinner, I could sit down to Hot dinner? My family seems to think I’m not entitled to what I now consider a luxury. And what’s most painful, is it feels like they are systematically working against my goal to have hot dinner.
Each night, I happily make a nutritious, enjoyable meal for my family. They know this is happening, as they are peaking over my shoulder asking what’s for dinner. They can hear the pots and pans rumbling. They can here the plates being taken out of the cupboard and placed on the counter, ready to hold the delicious dinner, which have been prepared. The main “tell” for the readiness of dinner is when I ask my son to set the table. You would think at the declaration for the need for the table to be set, everyone would start to prepare to sit down for dinner. But no, that’s not the case.
My son and Great Guy have devised a system of complete denial about the readiness of dinner. Table setting should be the first hint to the state of dinner. I would expect as the table was getting set, Great Guy would be clearing his work documents and computer from the dining table. Instead as my son moves around the dining table with the items needed for dining, he lifts up his work, and then sets it back down. Then, when my son is done setting the table, you would think he would sit in his seat, in preparation of dinner being placed on the table. But alas, he returns to whatever kid coma attracting activity he was doing before I asked him to set the table. Nobody picks up on the clues they should be getting to the table in order to eat. Nobody thinks it’s a good time to use the bathroom, wash their hands, or secure themselves a beverage. And most importantly, GET TO THE TABLE!
The result is me becoming a crazy person shouting at everyone to hurry up and get to the table. My newest rant usually contains the comment “I want hot dinner, so hurry up”. But what happens is someone needs to go wash their hands, someone needs to use the bathroom, someone still doesn’t have a drink…still no drink. All the while I have plates on place mats, and I’m watching the hot steaming meal I just prepared cool to a disappointing luke warm before everyone’s butts are in the seats.
I’m holding out hope for the day when I prepare a meal, and can enjoy it at the temperature it was intended to be enjoyed. This situation requires an ongoing “What the pickles.” Because I don’t see any end to this travesty in site.