Unexpected moments.

First, I SWEAR I am not turning this into a food blog. Those of you with children know, (and those who don't have children will just have to take my word for it), life revolves around food. It's not peace or politics, snotty noses or dirty laundry, that dictate our days. It's food. From the moment you wake (often earlier) to the moment your exhausted head hits the pillow at night, there is ever the food spectre floating around. But I digress.

Food. Today, as usual, was plagued with "I'm hungry" and "I don't like that" and "What else can I have?". As a result of this constant tirade, today was also plagued with incessant peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Fortunately for me those are almost all made by the little imps themselves. (I'm not sure that should be considered fortunate but we'll go with it for now). Once dinner rolled around I had a conundrum. It was obvious nothing I fixed, no matter how delicious, how much of a favorite, was going to be actually eaten. I made a calculated and solid decision and fixed Ramen noodles for the monsters. Before you call CPS, hear me out. My reasoning was that since they were not going to eat anyway, I'd fix the cheapest thing I had. That way, when I'm trashing it in an hour, I'm not lamenting the loss of x amount of grocery dollars. I think I can swing the $.75 of uneaten Ramen. As expected the rugrats didn't eat a noodle. Not one slurp. In honor of the actual food (safely tucked away in the fridge and pantry) I decided to make myself lettuce wraps for dinner. (You didn't honestly think *I* was eating Ramen, did you?).

I have not previously made lettuce wraps so I perused the recipes online and came up with a plan. I almost always ignore recipes, choosing to improvise. Recipes are merely guides to flavor combinations and I follow the heart of recipe wisdom, if not the specifics. (Note: This is why I don't bake. coughsendcookiescough.). So I figured lettuce wraps were essentially just stir-fry wrapped in lettuce. I chopped ingredients happily. Very scientifically and culinarily (by color), I added sweet potato, carrot, onion, garlic, cabbage, spinach and a handfull of leftover honey lentils from earlier this week. I sauteed and wokked and stirred happily. I added soy sauce at some point and it smelled delicious. I don't know what clued me in to what was happening next. Perhaps a shift in air current, a gentle clearing of the throat, or just that whole sixth sense mothers have, but I realized I had an audience. It was pure horror-movie footage. I turned slowly and 4 pairs of innocent eyes stared, well, innocently at me. Winnie clasped her hands together in what I call "patience pose" (thanks to Dannielle for that concept, it's usually used for good, not evil) and cocked her head to the side and said sweetly "whatcha cookin?". I slowly turned my body to protect my precious lettuce-wrap mixture and sneakily hid the hydroponically grown organic "living" boston lettuce behind the KitchenAid. Very calmly I said "nothin'. Go play" and hastily added "If you go play I'll let you stay up until 9". I'm not above bribery, particularly if the organic produce is in jeopardy. Winnie peeked around me and sniffed the air and actually said "NOTHING sure smells good". My brain worked feverishly for a way to get them out of my kitchen. I started to sputter that there were onions and garlic and SPICY STUFF and that surely they'd rather have a sandwich. For each statement the children licked their lips and said "but we like that now" or "we don't mind spicy". I swear Oak winked at me. I was left with little choice but to let them try my precious dinner. It was ready to serve and hot and delicious smelling. To continue to dissuade them would have been futile. So I did something horrid and unthinkable. I made them each a little lettuce wrap and showed them how to eat it.

These children. These children who won't eat burgers unless they're nasty McDonalds versions, these children who won't eat spinach or lettuce or even herbs because they are *gasp* GREEN, THESE CHILDREN ATE MY LETTUCE WRAPS. As they were sucking the juice off their fingers and licking their lips and fighting over the last of the delicately marinated onions and the crisp organic lettuce, they grinned at me. I'm pretty sure Oak winked at me again. I stared at the decimation of my precious VEGETARIAN, spicy, GREEN dinner and sighed. I suppose I should be GLAD they ate lentils and onions and lettuce and spinach. I don't know what's gotten into them and I'm not stupid enough to think whatever it is will stick around, but they ATE MY FOOD. I almost cried.

With a heavy heart and mixed up thoughts I made myself a peanut butter sandwich and settled in to get this story written out before the memory of "The Day the Children Ate Vegetables" was lost to all of the other little things us moms have to remember. After they go to bed I'll whip myself up something decadent for dessert and marvel at the nerve of these little monstrous creatures, and the fact they've been given to ME to shape. It is unexpected moments like these that make even missing the delicious lettuce wrappy yumminess (sorry, channeling Willy Wonka there) worthwhile.