In Donata's Kitchen

Desperate Tales from Harried Mothers at Dinnertime

As told before, in posts past, I once drafted a cookbook titled “Desperate for Dinner”. When I was penning it I asked other parents I knew to give me a reflection of what dinnertime in their home might entail, or, a Desperate Tale of Dinnertime. Here are a few of my favorites:

Working mother in Lake Stevens, WA

I am NOT a cook. I will do it, because I have to, but I don’t enjoy it and want to get it done as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, that means I try to take shortcuts (which you can do, IF you know what you are doing, but I don’t). So, usually I figure if it says something should be cooked on medium for 10 minutes, it could get done in 5 minutes if I put it on high.

Consequently, my kids figure when they hear the smoke alarm, dinner is ready.

FROM A DESPERATE MOM IN    GOLDENDALE, WA

I was getting myself all dolled up for my 8th anniversary date with my prince charming. I preheated the oven for the kids: nuggets & fries. Then I attempted to iron. It had been so long since I had ironed it smelled like it was burning something, but it kept getting worse. By the time I ventured out the entire house was filled with smoke. One of my little angels had put a nerf/plastic soccerball in the oven and it was well done. At that moment I realized I was late to pick up my daughter from art class and ran out of the house with the kids leaving everything open to air out. When my mother-in-law arrived she saw everything open, a remnant of a ball in the oven & the kids and I gone. She thought I had blown my top and we would be the next media story, when I arrived back home. The kids went home with grandma and I went with my husband for a margarita!

DESPERATE MOTHER IN                          LAKE STEVENS, WA

Today my 17 year old daughter Casey asked me when I was going to go to the grocery store (which we all know doesn’t really mean when in time but instead-“dear God mother we are out of food!”) I said Why? And she said, “because there is nothing to eat-not even any milk.” So I said, being the nurturing mom that I am-“You, your brother and Kyle (the 18 year old living with us) all have jobs and could contribute a gallon of milk yourselves.”
She was stumped by the absurdity of that answer.

And then of course after working all day I heard her pitiful plea-went to the grocery store-loaded up on milk and a 100$ more of groceries to feed us all for another day- and when I got home and was putting the groceries away-there at the back of the fridge was a 1/2 gallon of milk. Out of food

I just wrecked the kitchen….by making dinner. Hopefully, that teaches them all to quit asking, “What’s for dinner?” Tiffany