Seriously, I didn’t scream that at my kids tonight (or any other night), but I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel like screaming that at my kids tonight (or some other nights). Food is expensive. Preparing meals is time-consuming. Dinner is always delicious. You need food to live. So what, exactly, is the motherfucking problem? EAT.
In other news, Jason worked his butt off to make a delicious Mexican tamale casserole-pie type thingy for dinner, and not much of it was touched because I was only able to eat a few bites, Alyssa didn’t eat more than a few bites, and Ryan refused to touch any of it. So no milkshake for her (what she wanted for dessert) and no popcorn for him (what he wanted for dessert). I definitely plan on having a milkshake, once I have digested. Though at this moment vomiting seems more likely than digesting. Damn picky, touchy stomach pouch. 
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My name is Jenn, and I'm 27 years old. I'm happily married to my best friend and soulmate, Daniel. Together we have a six year old daughter named 
Name: Alyssa
Name: Ryan
