So, this conversation happened this week:

Oldest Daughter: "I don't like chicken nuggets."
Me: "Yes, you do."
Oldest Daughter: "No, I don't."
Me: "Yes, you do. You've never once said you don't like them"
Oldest Daughter: "Yes, I have! I only like the other kind."


She then proceeded to try and explain how the "other kind" is supposedly so different from what I served her. Please. Mechanically separated chicken is mechanically separated chicken. So, while the hubs and I enjoyed avocados stuffed with a shrimp salad, she grumbled on and on about chicken nuggets.

Sigh. I get so tired of barfing sounds, rounds of "that's disgusting" or an all out mutiny against the night's menu.

Another meal planning fail. Kids love chicken nuggets. It's, like, a law or something. They're on every kiddie menu at every restaurant in existence. Along with hot dogs. And now that I think about it, this kid doesn't like hot dogs, either. Hrmph.

I struggle often with meal planning. It's not for lack of resources or time or inspiration. I have all of that and then some. The problem is the little people's picky palates paired with their propensity to like something one week, but not the next or to prefer a food prepared one way but not another. Take the shrimp salad stuffed avocados, for example. My children will eat shrimp, but not as a salad with lots of little chopped veggies like radishes and bell peppers. So, I thought I'd play it safe and pop some chicken nuggets in the oven. And in my defense, soemtimes I DO make homemade chicken nuggets. But, it's been a busy week and with three kids, a full-time job and various other committments, well, sometimes I'm going to have to serve mechanically separated chicken in order to help preserve my sanity. It's just how things are.

So, you see, I was not at all prepared for the oldest child to boycott chicken nuggets, of all things. It's not as though I attempted to feed her liver and onions. I do, however, serve a variety of foods from fish to vegetarian dishes. And, unfortunately for my kids, I am not a short order cook. You get what you get and you never throw a fit.... as they say in preschool. Unless, you're capable of making yourself a sandwich, in which case, by all means help yourself. That's the rule in our home: eat what is served or fend for yourself. The oldest child chose not to eat which tells me she probably wasn't all that hungry in the first place. The parenting Jedi's say this approach will help mold my kids into adults who are less likely to be picky. After nights like this, I wonder if that's really true.