Eat it and be Thankful

 I don’t need people to thank me every time I do something kind for them.  I don’t require my students to rise at the end of class and bow and say, “Thank you for teaching us,” (though considering that is what Mr. and Mrs. Brauninger had us do at the end of each of our youth orchestra lessons, I cannot say it’s a bad idea) nor do I require the kids to notice if I clean and vacuum or sweep a room.  A job well done is usually a reward in itself.

I cannot abide, however, when instead of thanks being given, the person I am serving complains about the service I give them.  Specifically: dinner time.

I am not talking about the rare times I burn supper.  It does happen on occasion.  The oven roasted potatoes were left in too long, or the chicken is dry and over cooked, fine.  Say something if you must, but probably not too loudly nor to emphatically.  After all, maybe if you were helping make supper, and I wasn’t juggling everything, perhaps the supper wouldn’t burn.

I’m talking about when we’re sitting down to eat, Heather and I have served the kids their soup or beef and sweet potato or whatever we’re eating, and one of the kids slides into the seat, and the upper lip draws back in disgust.  “What are we eating?”  The inevitable whine is already there.

“Black bean soup,” I say, or, “Chicken and broccoli,” or, “Beef and sweet potato."

Then comes the mood-killer statement of the night.  “Oh, I hate that.”

Responses can vary.  Since the kids aren’t mine, I can’t give my desired response – “Go to your room and get ready for bed.  No supper for you tonight.”  The answer they get ranges from “Too bad,” to “I didn’t ask you if you liked it, sit down and eat.”  These days, I often don’t give any answer at all.  I glance from the child’s face to the plate and think internally what an ungrateful brat they are before turning around to finish serving the rest of the family.

It’s even worse when the complainer doesn’t finish the meal.  What a waste of effort and food.

I am sometimes surprised at my very negative, very strong response.  Why does it bother me so much?  And then one day, I stumbled on the answer in a Jordan Peterson lecture.

“The rule is, eat what is put in front of you, and be pleased and happy about it.  You might ask, ‘Well, why would that be a rule?’  Put yourself in this position (because you’ll be in this position): You’re going to cook your damn kids some lunch, and let’s calculate it out because I like doing arithmetic.

“Let’s say it takes you ½ an hour [to prepare a meal], and we’ll multiply it by 3 because there’s 3 meals, so it’s 1½ hours a day [for meal prep].   7 times 1½ hours is roughly 10.  So it’s 10 hours a week, it’s 40 hours a month, right?  40 hours a month is a full work week.  So, 40 hours a month times 12.  12 full work weeks.  Right?  Yes?  That’s 3 full months of 40 hour [weeks] of cooking something for your damn kid.

“Now, that’s a lot of time, and then you’re going to do that for 18 years.  So then you might ask yourself, what sort of response do you need from your child in order to not feel resentful and miserable about the fact that you have to [prepare meals] for three bloody months this year?  You just have to think about this!"

I remember listening to this lecture and suddenly understanding why I was so resentful and even angry when the kids first criticized and then rejected the food I prepared.  But Peterson went on, and what he said next put exactly into words what I felt multiple times a week.

“This is also why it’s necessary to know that inside yourself, you carry a monster, just like the world outside you carries a monster.  Do not think that you’re going to be able to maintain a healthy attitude towards your child or towards food or towards yourself if all you can muster up for the effort of cooking and preparing is the attitude of a slave and continual punishment from the people that you’re offering food to.  Who the hell wants that?

“So you want to teach the miserable little blighter that he’s LUCKY that there’s any food there at all, and the proper attitude is REALLY, “Thank you very much, mom or dad.  I’m glad that you produced something,” and then you can be all happy about the fact that you were slaving away in the kitchen, and you can like your kid. You might think, well everybody likes their kids, and it’s like, yeah, right.  No.  That’s not true.  That’s not true.”

By the time he finished, I fully comprehended why I felt so resentful, and it made even more sense because these aren’t my own children.  There is no maternal feeling of love to protect them from the monster within.

It is completely true.  No one can sustain a steady barrage of ungrateful vitriol every time you set food down in front of children after preparing it specifically for them.

The thing is, kids don’t understand what’s being done for them when food is placed before them.  Technically, it’s not their fault if they complain and refuse food.  It’s the adult’s fault.  I once heard of a father who yelled at his kids when they complained about their mom’s food.  “Your mom made this for you, and you’re going to eat it, and you’re going to be thankful for it!”  It seems a bit harsh on the surface, but having gone through a few years now of complaining children at the dinner table, I think I agree with that dad.

Cooking a meal doesn’t have to be a thankless job, and it shouldn’t be.

Having written this blog post (it’s not very good, and I don’t really expect anyone to get all the way through) I realize (again) that it is important that I have a conversation with Heather and then with her kids about what I am going to need from them in order not to hate them at every other meal.  I am not a saint, and I have never claimed to be one, and as Peterson points out, there’s a monster inside me, and sometimes at dinner, it’s very close to escaping.

(The quoted Jordan Peterson lines come from this video, which I HIGHLY recommend: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YsVcVeLNIVI)