Supper slackness

Late yesterday afternoon I was merrily chatting away to a friend of mine on the phone, whilst my children were brawling over some stickle bricks, when I realised it had gone way past their supper time. 'The kids are hungry and monstrous, I've got to go,' I said. My friend asked me what I was cooking them for supper and I told her cottage pie. She told me that she was so knackered she was going to give her child a carrot and some ricecakes with humous. 'Outrageous neglectful parenting,' I said, and put the phone down.

I dished up the cottage pie, and although both girls were starving neither of them would eat it. Betty wouldn't even try it and said just the look of it made her tummy hurt. Dolly, being the trooper that she is, had about three mouthfuls before pushing the plate away angrily.

They both looked at me expectantly, awaiting something edible. So, feeling a little bit annoyed (I thought the pie in question was perfectly ok) gave them a digestive biscuit and some ice-cream. I thought about giving them the trusted pasta and pesto combo, but frankly could not face yet more washing up, and also Betty saw me looking in the cupboard where the pasta and pesto are kept and said: 'Pleeeeease don't give us pasta AGAIN.'

Later on, when the girls were asleep, I phoned my friend and confessed about the biscuit and ice-cream dinner. She told me that I had made her feel so guilty that she had practically whipped up a roast dinner for her boy.