The other day, my Mom kept my 3 year old for me while I went to an appointment. And when I returned to pick her up, my Mom sent home some leftovers for dinner. So I re-heated them for dinner and my girls raved. I'm not sure it was so much what she'd made, although her beef and noodles have been a family favorite for generations. It was probably more the fact that we were eating a home cooked meal and sitting at the table. I've been told by my oldest sister that sitting down as a family is essential to communication and community, but then again, her kids are older now and she is never home anyway, so I don't have to listen to her, do I?

Don't get me wrong, I like the idea of home-cooked meals. I can set a great table...plates, silverware, coordinating napkins...it's the cooking part I have trouble with. For one thing, I don't enjoy cooking. And for another, I'm not any good at it. I think this is due in part to the fact that I am inpatient and always trying to multi-task while say, frying bacon. Don't try this at home! It leads to burned bacon and blaring smoke detectors. Although I did recently learn how to cook bacon in the oven which saves me so much pain and suffering, not to mention grease burns! And the Crockpot, I have that wired, as long as all I have to do is dump in some chicken breasts and a jar of salsa. Still, how many times can you feed your children chicken in one week? Believe me, they start to revolt. But in order that my children don't consume more corn dogs than meats that come from an identifiable source, I try to limit that dinner choice, or at least sneak in a vegetable to compensate for my culinary shortcomings. For me, a home-cooked meal means we actually stay home and eat. Even if it is just something I heated up in the microwave. Let's face it, we all have our strengths. Mine just happens to be driving-thru.