Top 10 Responses I’d Most Like to Give (but don’t) to the Question, “What’s for Dinner?”

The way I figure it, the 887 gajillion calories I took in on Thanksgiving have rendered the act of eating since that day-if not completely useless, then compulsory at best. I am fine with this. I have the memories of sweet potato pie and smoked turkey to keep me feeling satisfied and full. This is not the case for my children, who apparently practiced more moderation at the holiday table and still expect to be fed. Like every day. I’m not going to lie, it’s getting kind of old.

My kids, like many benevolent dictators the worldwide, love to ask the question, “What’s for dinner?” When they were younger, they used to ask me this as they sat down at the table. Fine. The answer was easy at that point. Then, as they got a little older the question popped up at about 4pm. Ok, that was reasonable. Dinner was in their very near future, and they wanted to prime their tummies.  But gradually they started asking earlier in the day – like noonish -which was a bit of problem because at noon, I’m thinking about lunch or still full from breakfast, and usually don’t have a clue about dinner yet.

My lack of dinner-planning-zeal apparently triggered some sort of food-stress in my children, especially my daughter, because now she asks me “What’s for dinner?” first thing in the morning. And sometimes, as I am putting her to bed the night before.

This raises my blood pressure. It brings out the sarcastic, un-Mommy-like side of me that usually only comes out on girls-nights or when someone over achieves via Pinterest. I’m not particularly proud of this, but there it is.

So each night as I tuck my kids into bed, a mere few hours after eating that evening’s dinner, and they ask me, “What’s for dinner tomorrow, Mommy?” I dream of saying something snarky. Or covering their sweet little mouths with duct tape. Most of the time, I don’t. But here are my Top 10 Responses I’d Most Like to Give to the Question, “What’s for Dinner?”

10. Haggis. Go look it up.

9. Why don’t you tell me?

8. Your face.

7. What? I can’t hear you. What? I can’t hear you. (Keep repeating.)

6. You’ll get nothing and like it.

5. Ask your father.

4. No habla ingles.

3. Who can think about dinner at a time like this?! (And run screaming from the room.)

2. That’s what she said.

And the #1 thing I’d like to say when my kids ask me, “What’s for dinner?”

1. Who are you and why do you keep calling me Mommy?

Anyone else have any good ones? I’m taking suggestions… (for comments, but I’ll take dinner ideas too.)