I figure people probably want to hear about our dining experiences. Considering how often we get stared at when we go out to eat. I like to imagine our dinners like that out of movie with all the kids saying "Yes, Father." and "Can you please pass the peas?" When people compliment us when we are at a restaurant it adds to my delusion. I quickly snap out of it though once at home at dinner time.
A small glimpse into our dinners here at home:
Me: "Someone get the baby off the table."
A1: "Little Monkey." As she takes the baby off the table.
A2: "According to Darwin, we are all monkeys."
Me: "That explains alot."
I: "Owww I bit my finger!" cries hysterically into my shoulder as I try to stifle my laughter.
J1: "I don't like carrots. Can I have something else?"
Dh has yet to sit down as he runs around delivering all the plates with their special orders. I am trying to feed a baby hell bent on climbing out of his hair chair. 3 more kids complain about some item on their plate. 2 kids decide they would rather forgo dessert than have to eat dinner. Requests are made for dinner tomorrow night, which elicits groans from half the kids. Finally the dh gets to sit down and before he can even breath a sigh of relief the 3 yr old asks, "Wheres my water?"
Dh to me: "Did you hear about?...." Whatever that was in the news that day. I shout back 3 times I can't hear him which is met with eyes rolling and him mouthing he will tell me later. Which he never does because by the time the house is quiet enough to talk we forgot what it was we were talking about.
A2: "I got all the parts to my cog suit today." No, its not a different language. Its a game and we have to hear about it at every meal.
J2: "No fair! I play more than you do! I should get it." A fight ensues and everyone ends up banned from the game for the next day.
Me to A1: "I bet you 50 cents that James can't eat his carrots without making a face."
A1: "Ok I take that bet. I think he can do it."
All the kids in chorus: "Do it. Do it. Do it."
For the next 30 min J1 sits there and stares at his plate. I'm not sure if he is building up the courage to eat the veggie or trying to make them disappear with sheer will power. Everyone else has eaten dinner and we are all waiting on him. Finally in a fit of frustration, he eats his carrots. He could have saved himself 29:30 min if he had just done that to begin with. I end up with 50 cents because not only did he make a face his entire body contorted.
I clean the baby up, which entails an entirely new outfit. A stack of dishes you can't see over needs to go into the dishwasher. The table is so sticky that if you touch it you fear you might never come off. The counters resemble what our house looked like after a tornado came through when I was 9. And the dog is busy having her own dinner under the table.
And that is dinner at our house. Everyday. Some days are better than others: when we have pizza the house is silent. Its the most peaceful night ever. Some days are worse: if I make fish I have to do it on a day I got a lot of sleep. And heaven forbid we have company, because then all the kids and us are trying to talk to the poor soul at the same time.
So when should we expect you for dinner?