Smoothies

Smoothies
This is me, sans make up, enjoying my own smoothie.

When my kids became of school age, I made a rule:

No hot breakfasts on school days. Yes, you can have: cereal, toast, oatmeal, fruit, but no pancakes, French Toast, or omelettes. On weekends, okay.

Then they wanted smoothies. I hate the mess! I do not enjoy cleaning the blender.

“If you want smoothies, you can make them yourselves,” I told them.

But  this morning I was feeling generous. Chris and I had been out last night — at the screening of some awesome short films from the Screen Actors Guild Foundation.

A friend of Chris’s, Merav Elbaz Belschner, had directed this hilarious movie about writing, Suddenly.

So I was feeling guilty that they’d ordered in pizza last night and Chinese food the night before. Yes, I’m that mother. Hence, the smoothies. But did they thank me? Did they enjoy the special effort on my part?

Hell, no!

They complained. In fact, Hayden announced, “This is the worst smoothie I’ve ever tasted.”

When Chris, God bless him, tumbled out of bed, (getting out of bed is difficult for him — he’s not yet medicated first thing in the morning and it takes a long time), tasted the smoothie, he pronounced, “It’s good. But the kids like juice-based, not milk-based smoothies.” I don’t really know these people who I live with. Who are they? What do they like? My family is a mystery. They reveal exciting nuances every day.

I thought they’d like the smoothie because I made it with frozen grapes, frozen strawberries, milk, ice cream, Greek yogurt, ice. And, of course, a lot of love. But no.

So tomorrow, they get dry toast and orange juice.

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