Next week, all three of my kids are going to camp. Not at some far away, exotic destination, or
even one of those ‘park ‘em for a day, so momma can take a nap’ camps, but a
rigorous Boot Camp a little closer to home.
And by ‘closer to home’, I mean REALLY close to home. Like, in my kitchen. Or starting next week, THEIR kitchen. Because I have just about decided, friends,
that my cooking days are limited for these hot summer days (long on sunshine,
but far too short in number).
So starting next week, each child is responsible for one
lunch, and one dinner during the week.
They choose the day, they select the menu, and tomorrow afternoon, they
will actually be doing the shopping for their items. I, of course, will still be the one whipping
out the debit card to pay for said items.
Plus, HEB won’t let them buy wine, so I have to make an appearance
anyway.
The kids are very excited to take the reins on this… at
least for now. Well, at least until I mentioned that they are responsible for kitchen clean-up, too.
I didn’t give them many restrictions,
other than that we needed to have at least one fruit or veggie with every meal,
and that they needed to find at least one coupon to use for their meal
planning. (If you’ve never seen two
siblings arguing over a 30 cent coupon for frozen Birds-eye veggies, it’s truly
a sight to behold).
Next week’s menu may not be the healthiest… we’ll work on that. It may not be the most creative… hot dogs and
chili mac, anyone? But this ‘camp’ is
designed to teach some necessary skills, and most importantly, save my summertime
sanity. And maybe, just maybe, my kids will be able to
cook something beyond Ramen noodles and macaroni & cheese when they get
their own apartments one day.
Call it a lesson in independence. Call it a lesson in maturity.
Heck,
let’s call it what it is… the lesson that
this momma is not your maid, or your short order cook.
And if that’s not a lesson for the future, I don’t know what
is. ;)
