One of the things I do, with great effort, is cook. And cook healthy meals for my family. They return the favor by refusing to eat what I've spent a good hour preparing in the kitchen. Or my children do anyway.
I don't come by cooking naturally. My mother never cared for it, so I'm entirely self-taught, and while I've always wanted children and a big family, it never dawned on me just how much cooking would be involved. I've actually become much better at it; what I can't manage is to enjoy it more.
At any rate, I did slave away at another healthy meal with a different source of protein (which I strive for each night, not so easy given the vegetarian limitations and the fact that the children will not eat lentils, the baby won't eat tofu, we're off the "fake" stuff ever since someone told me it's got estrogen and messes with little boys' systems--which may well not be true but once you've got something in your head...it's hard to get out--), including a lovely, green head of broccoli with peas, and a noodle dish.
After one helping, I piled on another plate and sat down to eat, dodging flying noodles, screams for yogurt, and spilled milk, when I noticed a snail, sans shell, on my plate. I suppose this makes it a slug, but it was more snail like with its twin tentacles and white, nub of a nose. For a moment, I prayed it was simply a mushroom from the sauce. But no, it was the real thing. And that was the end of dinner for me. (No, it did not come earlier when the preschooler regurgitated his broccoli into a tidy, green pile on his plate on account of eating too quickly. If I could not endure such events, I would never eat. Or I would never eat with my children. Which, come to think of it, is a really civilized idea.)
As a follow up to this spectacular meal, my son, who recently received a monster truck as a gift, told me, while driving the enormous thing over my torso while we sat in the rocking chair together, "Mama, my truck is soooo big it can even zoom over your nipples."
It's the little things that count, isn't it?