I am not feeling very well today. It is co op day and my fibromyalgia is acting up, or flaring up, or whatever. I try not to mention my fibromyalgia much because I’m in denial, and to type it is to own it. I don’t want to own it.
I neglected to throw anything into the crock pot this morning, and D is working late, so I’m doing dinner the easy way. I went downstairs and pulled out the boiled eggs, peanut butter crackers, pickles and a bag of apples and rounded up the kids. “Dinner”, I tell them.
The three little girls were thrilled, they love cracking eggs and eating pickles.
G however was not impressed. “It’s Monkey food.” he says. “I’m not a monkey; I can’t survive on fruit’s and vegetables!” “Momma (here I must interject that when he calls me Momma, he looses all "man" credibility, it's just too cute.) I’m a man, I need man food! I NEED MEAT!!!”
Oh, save me from the HE MAN club!
And I feel I need to point out here that instead of choosing the decidedly non veggie items like boiled eggs and pb crackers, he opted for a bowl of cereal. Hummm? No meat in cereal, I'm pretty sure.