Not So Fancy Sunday Dinners

When I was little I remember my mom putting food on our plates and we happily and not so happily ate it whether we liked it or not. I remember I was told I had to eat my spinach from the can if I wanted to be strong like Popeye. When I got older it was just eat it we don't have food to waste. 
So now that I have the privileges of cooking for her although on some days it doesn't seem that way. But, now that my mom is older and doesn't really cook anymore because of her eye sight and couple of other medical problems I have taken over cooking for 5. I should say that number fluxates daily. Sometimes my nephew eats a this job so he won't eat dinner but he has the habit of not letting me know this through any forms of the mass ways to communicate these days. Which leaves me cooking for 5 most days. 

Occasionally I try to cook different things for dinner or something we haven't had in a while like months or years even. Seems like from the reactions I get from my family that may not be such a good idea. 

My brother has autism and doesn't deal with change good sometimes but with food he will when it is something he's familiar with. I can understand him and have for over 30 years. But, to my surprised he's been the most flexible and supportive one. 

My son wasn't a picky eater until last year he came up with a list, a list, I haven't a clue what it consists of, but certain things he used to eat he now hates. Maybe its a phase. Who knows? And my mom is well, being mom.

Last Sunday I got the not so brilliant idea in hindsight now, to have a Sunday big dinner, sort of like in the movies when the whole family gathers around a big table and there's tons of different food on the table and they eat off of the good China and talk, laugh, pray and eat. I had high hopes. I had the perfect picture in ,y mind of my family kind of doing that. Except for there's not a dinning room here and the buffet table we got from target a few Years ago when we first moved in here. Now that table is in a corner  in the kitchen covered with boxes filled with stuff. Just stuff that will be relocated either to the trash or our new place when we find one hopefully soon.So my version of Sunday dinner would be eaten on not so glamerous TV trays and laps off of every day plain green dishes which my mom complains are too heavy to hold. In an aptempt to please her I got some lighter plates for her but then she complained about the color and they were too light. I just threw up my hands and shook my head. But that's mom.
Consisted of black eyed peas, cornbread, rice, and baked chicken breasts. ( mom will only eat that part of the chicken) dessert was a fruit salad. I was pretty proud of myself. I fixed plates and served dinner. 

Smiling I was sure they would love it or the very least appreciate the effort. So, nobody was feeling or eating the black eye peas. Very little of those were eaten. But on the bright beside they ate the chicken and liked it. Score one for me and chicken. 

I have made a decision Sunday dinner will always consist of chicken. Chicken and rice for them. For me I might indulge in other things sometimes. Small portions just for me. 

I cooked foods everyone was familiar with  which 

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