Dinnertime

Dinnertime perplexes me.


Everyday.  Every.  Single.  Day.  Around 5:15pm.  The meltdown begins.  It's like the sun goes down and out come the vampires.  I'm usually in the final minutes of dinner preparation but no manner of snacks will hold off the starving children hanging on my ankles.  They want dinner and they want it NOW.


Finally we get dinner on the table and all sit down.  Only to have them refuse to eat and want down to play less than 2 minutes into the meal (after Fletcher has sufficiently mashed every bit of food into his tray, clothes, chair and floor).  The good news is that most of the time they will go play like angels while Pat and I finish our meal.


So let me get this straight.  They cry.  We put them in chairs.  They stop crying.  We put them down.  They go play.  We eat in peace.


Ok.


Maybe next time I'll try offering plastic food.  At least that way there'll be less of a mess to clean up later.