Last evening was a mid-week, no-occasion, family dinner. Mother-in-law made a delicious lasagna, daughter-in-law made a fresh, tasty salad, and I made some bread and a dessert. Two little boys were also here. They brought the giggles and kept us all on our toes. Life doesn’t get much better.
The dinner discussion was quite interesting, and I thought I would share it with you. I’m sure you have had similar discussions at your family dinners.
“I don’t like lasagna!”
“This lasagna is really good!”
“Did Aunt Melissa make corn casserole?”
“Not this time.”
“Ugh! Why not? I like that.”
“The lasagna is delicious!”
“I don’t like the yellow stuff in the salad.”
“It’s egg yolk from the hard-boiled egg.”
“But I don’t like it.”
“Here, I’ll just scoot the yellow part out of the way for you.”
“I want more bread, please.”
“You’re right. The lasagna is really good.”
“Eat your lasagna or you won’t get dessert.”
“What’s for dessert, Mimi?”
“Chocolate peanut butter layered dessert.”
“I ate my lasagna.”
“I didn’t see you eat it. Did you feed it to Harper?”
“I did! I did eat it!”
“Well, if Harper has lasagna toots tonight, then we will know for sure.”
Giggling from a seven-year-old ensues for 10 minutes with the phrase “lasagna toots” repeated to effectively kick start more giggles.
Then came dessert.
“Oh! I think I put way too much peanut butter in this.”
“I don’t think so. I like it.”
“I don’t taste the peanut butter, but I can taste the caramel drizzle on top.”
(There was no caramel; it was peanut butter that had been melted and drizzled. No one pointed out the mistake.)
“I think I prefer more chocolate and less peanut butter.”
“Not me. I like the peanut butter layer.”
“It sure is rich, but it’s delicious.”
“I really don’t taste the peanut butter.”
I’m happy to report that the dinner ended, dishes were done, and we still like each other despite the vast differences of opinions floating around the table. In fact, we still love each other and respect each other’s opinion about food, politics, and all other issues. We are family.
All of humanity is a family, so maybe there are times when we should push the egg yolk out of the way rather than lecture about its yummy taste and nutritional benefit or practice refraining from pointing out that what tastes like caramel to someone else is actually peanut butter, because it really doesn’t matter what you call it.
Not all issues require a storm of swords complete with name calling and derisions. Disagreements and hurts need not last a lifetime due to being nurtured by the I-am-right complex. (However, I am right about there being too much peanut butter in the dessert. Just saying.)
Love and respect are much more important than egg yolk or peanut butter drizzle.