Dave is away for the weekend. With him, left my desire to cook. A new cookbook, however, led me and the wee men to take out the mixer, heat up the oven and try out a few gluten-free, dairy-free (ugh, we are so high-maintenance!) baked goods. The muffins were ready right about dinner time, so we each ate a couple while jumping on the bed. The sun was sinking and I proclaimed it to be pajama time. “But what about dinner?” E-man asked. I fumbled a bit. (Oh yeah, dinner. But who does dinner when Daddy is away?) “We had muffins for dinner!” I exclaimed, hoping my enthusiasm would be convincing. “But we need something healthy, like vegetables. Maybe some celery or broccoli,” E-man insisted.
What’s up with that? I suggest we can have peach muffins for dinner and my four-year-old insists we need vegetables. Who taught him such nonsense?