Wal Mart trickery - you can't outsmart Mom

My family has been steadily growing over the last few years, and I don't mean in numbers. My husband attributes our ever-expanding waistlines to my "good home cooking," and my oldest claims an ongoing growth spurt. They are eating me out of house and home, and they have the bellies to prove it. (Did you notice how I left myself out of that statement? That's because I'm not fat, I'm fluffy.)

Because of the outward growth of our behinds, I've recently made a commitment to healthier eating. I made this commitment on behalf of my entire family, and they're not so happy about it. The girls don't really know the difference, but the boys... well, let's just say it's not been easy. I've made simple changes - exchanging pointless carbs for healthier ones, adding extra veggies, cooking leaner meats, etc. I haven't cooked anything with gravy on it for at least a month - please don't tell my mother. I've also cut all snack foods out of my grocery budget. That's the great sin that sent me straight to the place in hell reserved for women who take fun things from their families.

Snacks are big around here. When my husband walks in the door from work every night, he sniffs whatever is simmering on the stove, sneaks a nibble or two, then heads straight for the fridge. He'll spend several minutes scrounging in there, then move on to the cabinets looking for something to munch on. I don't think he believes me when I tell him, "Dinner will be ready in 10 minutes." The same goes for my son. He walks in the door from school every single day and heads straight for the kitchen. It's on my mental schedule. Every day by 3pm, the whining begins.

"Moooooom, there's nothing to eat in this house."

shuffle bang crash shuffle

"Don't we have any chips? Cookies? Pop Tarts?"

Yes, we do, and I hid them all. "Nope."

"Mom, can we go to Taco Bell? I'm STARVING."

Eat a banana, Bryan. I don't need to say this out loud, because my answer is the same every day. I just roll my eyes, and he knows that my ass is not driving to Taco Bell. We had a bad experience there, and I avoid it as much as possible.

"MOOOOOMMMM!" *insert dramatic sigh, followed by the sound of a banana being peeled*

I made hummus the other day. The kids love hummus, provided it's slathered on something considerably unhealthy. Pita chips, potato chips, flatbread - carbs galore. I did the most evil thing a mother can do, and cut up lots of fresh veggies to dip into it. That didn't go over so well.
"Um, what is this?" I think he came dangerously close to saying what the hell is this, which is a no-no in my house. Do as I say, not as I do. You know the mom rule.

"Green peppers and celery!" I said brightly, pretty darn proud of myself.

I have trained my kids well in the art of the evil eye. I ducked to avoid the daggers coming from my son's angry glare. Not to be outsmarted, the wiseass got a spoon (you know, the bigger ones that only boys will eat cereal with) and ate the hummus off a spoon.

Sigh.

The situation was compounded when I served dinner. Baked fish, steamed broccoli and rice. Not just any rice, but healthy brown rice. This set my husband off. "Something is wrong with the rice." Yeah honey, it's healthy. They grumbled and griped, but choked it down. I swear, it was good.

About an hour after dinner, my husband said, "I'm going to Wal Mart." Instantly, Bryan agreed that he wanted to go, too.

"What the hell are you going to Wal Mart for this late?" Yes, I realize that 8pm is not that late for a Wal Mart trip, but you need to understand that my husband is faithfully snuggled up to his girlfriend, the sofa pillow, by 8:30 every evening, snoring peacefully. Fishing stuff. That's what he wanted to go to Wal Mart for. Okie dokie, then. It's 8pm on a Monday, and there will be no fishing taking place for at least four more days, but it's like a national state of emergency that he look for a casting net tonight.

Now, I'm not stupid. I knew there was another reason. The only time my husband goes out that late at night is if there is a gift giving occasion the next day. He's a master procrastinator, and I know his patterns, but this is even off for him, because lately he waits until the morning of a big day to start shopping. Whatever.

They leave, and come home an hour later carrying the casting net that he was suddenly frantic about finding. Good cover, honey. That cheese sauce on your shirt doesn't give you away at all. I swear, he's a messier eater than my two year old. Not only was there cheese on his shirt, there was mustard at the corner of his mouth. Bryan had blue lips. I thought for a second.

"Nachos, hot dogs and Slurpees from the gas station, eh?"

Busted.

They think they outsmarted me. Maybe in a way they did, but I gained a great deal of satisfaction in catching them at it. One day they'll learn that I am "The mom that will not be fooled."

Tomorrow I'll make turkey burgers and sweet potato fries. That should go over well.