Last week, I spent some time actually making a pretty good meal for dinner. We had chicken Parmesan with Parmesan grits (yes, we like some cheese around these parts) and a salad. It took a little while to prepare, and I was proud of myself that I had made the effort and that it was good. Both of the kids ate it up (a miracle), and everyone seemed to enjoy the meal. To top off a lovely dinner, Zach had gotten some slice-and-bake peanut butter cookies from the store, so while we were finishing eating, he went and put the cookies in the oven, and then delivered them to the table. Remember, these are slice-and-bake, which means they took all of 5 seconds for him to prepare.
Zach brings the cookies to the table, and Will looks up at him admiringly and declares, "Daddy! You are such a chef!"
Really? He gets called a chef for his prepared cookies and the meal I made from scratch doesn't even get a mention? Sounds about right--Mamas never get much credit!
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