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Real men don’t eat quiche…

What a thankless task cooking the family meal can be sometimes. Know what I mean?

When I was growing up, you generally weren’t given a choice about what was for dinner. Mum had the one meal organised for everyone and that was pretty much that. If you didn’t like it, you had to lump it (or make your own dinner). Now that I am a parent, I think the Groovy Grandma was definitely on to something. Because in my experience,  as soon as you give people a choice, you open yourself up to all KINDS of trouble.

“Aww, I don’t want meat!”

“I want meat!”

“Why can’t we have pasta?”

“I wish I was at *insert friend’s name* house – his mother makes the BEST food.”

“Is that dinner?”

Or how’s this from Mr 23 yesterday, after he saw what I had left for him and his father in the fridge. I was with Son #2 at a rugby get together after our grand final, so very kindly (I thought) organised dinner for the remaining occupants.

“I don’t really consider quiche and salad as being ‘dinner’, Mum.”

Uh, say what??

“Darling boy,” I said. “I would be THRILLED if someone left me quiche and a green salad for dinner… especially after enduring a 28 degree day! It’s perfect hot weather food!” He wasn’t convinced. Pity.

I left him browsing the freezer compartment for what we call around here, a ‘box dinner’. As in ‘you open box, put contents in oven for select amount of time, then eat’. As for the rest of us? We ate the quiche and salads (green salad, freshly made coleslaw and tabouli). Yum, yum. They were absolutely delicious.

God knows what I will make for them all tonight, though.

What are your family like when it comes to dinner? Who decides what you’re eating? And why can’t I have a personal chef like Oprah does? 

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About Me

Hi, I’m Sarah!

Former wild-child of the 80’s, classic rock fan and loyal friend to a particularly awesome group of people. Forever planning to write more. Fervently wishes she lived at the beach. Loves the mighty All Blacks. Rather partial to a cheeky glass of red.

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