I made macaroni and cheese tonight. The homemade stuff. The kind that begins with butter and gets serious with the cheese. A whole bunch of cheese.
The kind of macaroni my kids snub with wrinkled noses because it doesn’t taste like the box kind. Or as my daughter put it after the taste test, the kind she couldn’t tell if she liked or not.
Only she decided she didn’t. But it took three bites.
Which just meant more for my thighs. By which time I jiggled up from the table and got seconds.
My kids, meanwhile, sang the praises of Annie’s mac and fake-cheese. And for a moment, there wasn’t an unpleased palate at the table.
until I mentioned the salad.