Lazy Sunday dinners in the 'vents household...

This should be read by any mother berating themselves for feeding their hungry hoard fast food. We've normalised it :-(

Tonight I'm distracted by my own activities (in this case morosely quilting, moaning that it must be over soon or I shall expire 'neath a mass of brown and yellow cotton) and vaguely thinking that I'll make pasta and salad to feed the hungry hoard, when my son (11yo) requests a "Last Hurrah" dinner because it's the last day of the holidays. This is his code for "some form of fast food". I relent (too easy in this heat) and send him off to negotiate the precise form of fast food with his step-father. I couldn't care less myself, I won't eat much of it because my appetite takes a dive when the temperature gets above 30 degrees or so. He comes back and reports that my husband wants vegetarian and he wants hawaiian. I correctly deduce that this is code for pizza and add some meatballs for myself to the order. By the time I get to the phone my husband's order has changed to vegetarian pasta - lucky I indulged in some communication before I dialed.

We eat in front of the Fraggles (they have taken up permanent residence in our living room). I'm not hungry but manage to down one meatball and some snow peas. 11yo tries my meatballs and finishes the lot, shunning the humble pizza on his plate. 2yo is feeling sick and only eats the pineapple on her slice of pizza. The only person truly happy with his choice of food is my husband - this place creates a fresh kind of vegetarian pasta for him every time we order and it's always excellent. I reconsider my omnivourusness for the nth time this week.

Now the kids are still in front of the TV, 2yo sniffing intermittently and 11yo rousing himself occasionally to say, "I can't believe it's school tomorrow!". I don't know where my husband has got to but he's about to be galvanized into dish duty while I get some drugs for the 2yo. My grand aim is to get my study cleared out so that we can turn it into a living room and the 2yo won't swallow any more staples. (Long story.)

Update: Where was my husband? Apparently he'd just saved his captain by dragging him to safety behind a ferris wheel...or maybe it was the enemy soldiers that were behind the ferris wheel... and I think there was something about a rope...either way it was high adrenalin and he was about to save the world from something. Definitely worth postponing dish duty for!