Ben came home and the domestic goddess in me seems to have disappeared. Hmmmm... Ben may argue she never existed but I swear I spent the last few months slaving over a hot stove at dinner time. Sure, most of those dinners were hotdogs but no one said feeding a six year old had to be elaborate.
I present to you, our dinner menu since his return:
Friday - I threw a frozen pizza in the oven.
Saturday - El Patron for some of our favorite Mexican fare.
Sunday - Everyone needs a little Olive Garden in their life.
Monday - We snuck off to Toro Bravo while Ruth was at gymnastics...Ruth got to pick between leftovers or cereal.
Tuesday - I called Papa... Papa John's.
Wednesday - I saw Ruth eating the powdered donuts and softball size Hershey Kiss and heard myself tell her it was her dinner. She didn't argue.
I jokingly told a friend of mine I was trying for the Mom of the Year award. I know some may frown upon the choices I made this week but that's okay. I happen to know there are more important things in this life than cooking dinner for my family every night. I also know we just ate hot dogs for dinner.
See, I told you I was a domestic goddess.