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Magical Meal Moments…mostly
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It’s The Thoughtlessness That Counts

Magical Meal Moments…mostly

The cheerful chatter, the sweet sharing, the ardent appreciation of your creative efforts in the kitchen — meal time is the cornerstone of a family, and the most magical time.    Haha. Just kidding. It’s exhausting. Nobody is clambering to eat the healthy dishes I’ve slaved over, except for maybe the two begging dogs who are slobbering under the table, getting hair on my pants.   Meals are a balance between casual conversation and intense negotiations. “How was your day? Just eat two more bites!” And let’s not forget reminders like, “Too much! Slow down. Hurry up, its getting cold. Chew! That’s too big, you could choke. Drink your water. Please don’t stab the table with your fork. Elbows off the table. Elbows off your brother. This is my chair, THAT is your chair. Just eat, no more talking.” Left behind are leisurely dinners by candlelight, savouring food and adult conversation. Family dinners are loud and messy. Just like life. Milk will get spilled. Peas will roll onto the floor. Ketchup will end up in somebody’s hair. Kids will pick out the onions. Parents will eat the leftovers from their children’s plates. And someone (usually me) will rest their forehead[…]

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It’s The Thoughtlessness That Counts

  Winter birthdays stink; my husband and I can both attest to that. His birthday, a few days before Christmas, is consistently lost in the storm of holiday preparations. On his last birthday, my aging husband worked all day, came home to a house in chaos, a stressed out wife and absolutely no birthday regalia. None. Granted I had bought him a birthday present weeks before — a sweater {which he loved}, a shirt {which he returned} and jeans {which he claimed were too small because of the style, not the size}. He ended up making his own dinner and dishing out his birthday cake. Not even a real b-day cake, but a Lemon Too Tall cake, my favourite, served still in the box. What? I opened one side. “Lovely presentation.” he said. I went upstairs to work and he put the kids to bed.  Poor guy didn’t even get any birthday bumps. “It’s the thoughtlessness that counts!” he joked. His only consolation was that at least HIS birthday didn’t fall on the most depressing day of the year. That would be MY birthday. Having a birthday mid January is kind of a joke. It’s dark, it’s cold, it’s depressing.[…]

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