cassoulet vs chocolate?

   What wonderful things cross my brain this evening? Tonight was my weekly dinner feast with friends Nancy and David. We had extra bodies tonight, as Sue and Don were exposed to the joy of dining with children (of which they have none and desire none). A yummy cassoulet was our fare, compliments of Sue. She was almost dismayed that the children (three girls 4 1/2, 4 1/2 and 3 years) were not interested in her delicacies. Ha! The other three parents at the table smirked. We have all had more meals than can be counted where food has been snubbed for more reasons than can be imagined. No other reason is needed to not eat than having company to escape with. Only the lure of chocolate or chicken nuggets tempts fickle appetites. We have found ways around this by letting the girls eat after us when we dine at my house. We can enjoy our meal and sip at wine in a civilized manner with adult conversation. The girls either beat a hasty retreat to the basement, where food is either eaten or not, but not witnessed by us, so not as painful. They do sometimes join our table, but I think they enjoy having their own time and space together. It seems to make us all happier. Well worth it. And one night where I am not badgering my children to eat seemingly forever, until I cannot take it any more. I hate hitting the one more bite or two more bites phase, but it seems to be the only thing that will work some nights. Nancy's strategies are to feed the girls sure-fire kiddables like hot dogs or macaroni and cheese, while we get to dine on gastronomical dishes that our children would never eat, like the spicy curry we enjoyed last week. Ahh.

   I think that is what I like best about my Tuesday dinners. I get to be an adult. I get to eat and talk with other adults of like mind. We get to eat food that we like, whether the kids eat or not. We can reminisce about days of yore when we could savour a meal without having to clean up spilled milk or grate our teeth over uneaten food. I can be me and let go of my Mommy reins. Someone else is there to help. Someone else is just plain old there. Whether they serve meals, clean plates or just talk to me. I am not alone. Yes, I am not alone. I like Tuesdays.