Hail to the Chief

Chris is out of town.

You know what that means?

Breakfast for dinner. Frozen pizza. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

I hate cooking. My kids hate my cooking. Therefore, I tend not to cook unless threatened by death or serious bodily harm.

My Renaissance Man is truly the House Chef. That's very different than the House Chief, which is--of course--me. With Chris's lack of spelling prowess, however (see "Buckit List" post and nod in agreement when I say that particular apple didn't fall far from the tree), he might not get the subtle difference. But I can assure you that I do.

I'd much rather be the Chief than the Chef.

When the Chef is gone, we tend to eat a lot of Subway, and we're much more likely to gather around a table where someone brings our food and refills our drinks than we are to gather around our own kitchen table and pick through our paltry offerings like grooming monkeys. (POT ROAST?? What the hell kind of meal is THAT to prepare for your family?? Potatoes? CARROTS? In some kind of BROTH? Why not just ask them to give up the XBox for 24 hours? COULD THERE BE A WORSE PUNISHMENT??)

SUBWAY SIDEBAR: My children have recently begun ordering a "few red onions" on their drier-than-dry subs. They then proceed to sit down, unwrap their sandwiches, and promptly remove all the red onions. When questioned about their motives, they insist that having a "few red onions" on their sandwiches for the 30 seconds it takes to fill their drinks leaves an acceptable level of red onion "flavor" on their sandwiches without the actual act of red onion ingesting. Yeah. I'm not kidding. That's the shit I deal with on a daily basis. I've perfected the art of "smiling and nodding."

Anyway...

I dream of family dinners at home where the conversation is easy and the plates are eventually cleaned. Instead, we typically experience looks of disgust at what's presented for consumption, bargaining over how many green beans constitutes "enough," shameless begging for dessert, and general disdain for anything that's both healthy and edible.

Tonight, I made my kids very happy with waffles and bacon for dinner. Perhaps it wasn't the Dinner of Champions, but everyone ate. Everyone smiled. No one complained.

It was a Festivus Miracle.

And you know how much bacon they ate?

One full pound. They're animals, those Willis kids.

Most of you know that Mary Claire has a thing for pigs, so we always opt for the turkey variety at home. Sam insists that turkey bacon is for sissies, but he can shovel it into his mouth like a crazed lunatic when it's his only option. And Mary Claire is much happier feasting on Turkey Lurkey than on Wilbur.

You know what else we did tonight? Stayed up until 9:30 PM.

Not by choice, but necessity.

After baseball practice, lacrosse drop-off and pick-up, bacon frying, syrup warming, homework help, spelling quizzing, babysitter scheduling, dish washing, and laundry folding, I couldn't get them to bed any damn earlier.

Bacon and late bedtimes?

I am the Chief tonight. Chief Resident Rockstar, that is.

Chefs need not apply.