Leftover night

I used to hate leftover night.

When I make dinner, the kids have to eat what they will from it.  I don't make anything else.  It has been this way for years, and yet children are dumb.  They continue to whine and complain and protest the policy...as if we will finally buckle after all these years.  While I still don't always enjoy eating leftovers, I really enjoy the peace of those nights.  Because we have a policy at our house that leftover night means "kid food" night.   If all I have to do is nuke my own dinner, I'm willing to make something else for them.

Tonight we're having leftover beef stew.

Last night it was fresh out of the crock pot.  Jeff and I sat down to a steaming bowl of yummy beef stew in a delicious broth with fresh crusty bread to sop it all up with.  And there was much crying and carrying on that they were expected to eat it.  Then there was much crying and carrying on when they didn't get milk before bed because they didn't eat said dinner.  Next verse, same as the first. 

Tonight Jeff and I will sit down to a steaming bowl of yummy beef stew with crusty bread to sop it all up with.  But the children will be quietly and happily eating chicken nuggets and mixed veggies.  We're the only house in America where the kids cheer that it is leftover night.

I'm not about to break down my rules just for a more peaceful eating experience.  Every once in a blue moon they try and like something that I make.  But I may introduce a new rule.  Nights where the kids have to eat "real" food are wine nights for the adults.  It may make all the caterwauling more bearable.