Haute Cuisine

My kids have this annoying habit of walking into the kitchen while I am cooking dinner, looking at whatever it is I am cooking, and then asking, "What's for dinner?"

First off, I hate being asked that question.  You shouldn't ask.  You just be thankful that somebody is seeing to your dinner.  Second off, DUH.  You JUST looked at it.  Do you not yet recognize chicken when you see it?  Or spaghetti, or whatever common, run of the mill offering happens to be on the stove?  It's not like we are serving truffles and escargot around here. 

So tonight, when Olivia looked at her bowl of chili and asked what we were having for dinner, I told her it was rattlesnake stew with mouse guts. In true Olivia form, she started to bawl, and got mad that I was teasing her.  Then I started to bawl and told her I was so sorry, that we were so poor I had nothing to feed her tonight, so I had to go out and kill some rattlesnakes for dinner. The rattlesnakes had been eating mice when I finished them off, so the mice got thrown into our stew for a little variety.  Once she caught on that it was a JOKE, she recovered nicely, and gobbled up that rattlesnake stew faster than she ever would have eaten a bowl of nasty chili.

Tomorrow, night, I am serving up fried tarantula legs with cow pie gravy.