August 15, 2010
This weekend, I asked my kids to make lists of things that they wanted to do during their lifetimes. Included in the top 10 of everyone's wish list were the words "kid cuisine."
"You're sure?" I asked them. Yesterday afternoon I spent more time than I care to admit standing in the frozen food aisle of Super Wal-Mart. "Eating one of those frozen dinners will bring you eternal joy and bliss?"
Everyone nodded their heads and began salivating. With the wave of my hand, I gave them permission to meet their destiny. Cortlen selected a corn dog, which came with a side of corn kernels and a cup of chocolate pudding. Kellen picked chicken nuggets. Camber had a difficult time deciding on her entree. Every few minutes she would change her mind and swap out her selection for something else. She finally settled with a chicken leg accompanied by several unidentifiable objects.
Everyone wanted to eat their dinners the minute that we got home from the store. I needed some laundry folded and a bathtub scrubbed, so we made a deal.
The food looked just as delicious in person as it did on the packages. I kept my distance. We made it through the meal with only one unexpected tragedy (pudding jumped the fence and invaded one side of corn dog) and one unseemly outburst (related to pudding-meets-corn dog event). All and all, the frozen dinner meal was a success.
"This is the best dinner you've ever made!" Cortlen told me as he dumped his plastic plate into the trash.
I accepted the compliment.