Spaghetti Will Be Flung

I took the opportunity during last night’s dinner (of whole wheat spaghetti, fresh French bread and chopped salad), to hold a bit of a team meeting.
There were a couple of things I wanted to discuss – namely, our year-to-date performance on this family meal time thing and a gentle reminder about household chores.
After they filled their plates, I waited until they began eating to grab the floor. 
“So, how do you guys like having sit-down dinners every night?”
Five chewing faces looked blankly at me. It was as if I asked, “Who can explain Galileo’s principle of relativity?”
Some shrugged, some indicated a vague positive response by nodding, although a tad apprehensively. 
I tried again. “Should we keep doing it?”
Their response was unanimous. “Yeah.”  
Well, OK then. 
“Now, about the hamper. What are you supposed to do when you see that it’s full?”
What followed next made the last televised political debate look like a little girls’ tea party. 
I knew I should’ve typed up agendas.
All I could make out, and this is the censored version, was something about worn under garments not finding their way all the way down to the laundry room and how the owner should (redacted content). 
Note to self: leave bar of soap on table as a reminder during future discussions.
After dinner was done, the last strand of spaghetti was wiped off of the wall and the dishwasher was loaded, I flung open my pantry door, spread the grocery store ads on the table and drafted this week’s menu:
Monday night – Make-Your-Own-Tacos
Tuesday – Whole Wheat Penne Pasta Casserole, Garlic Toast and Salad
Wednesday – Slow Cooker Pot Roast
Thursday – Fish and Alfredo Noodles
Friday – Quesadillas and Spanish Rice
Saturday – Swedish Meatballs
Not especially creative, but as I told my boys, it’s not up for debate.

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