I believe in Dinner

I don't have one of those cute, ruffly aprons with a sassy phrase embroidered across my bust. I don't have a spice rack that rivals a street vendor in India. I don't own a garlic grater.
But I do believe in dinner.
I believe in calling my family from the four corners of our home and watching them bang and wrestle their way into our kitchen chairs.
I believe in taking everything out of the saucepot and arranging it in a serving dish.
(True, it is more work for my dishwasher, but he is a good worker and hasn't complained yet.)
And yes, it does take me an hour to get it ready and ten minutes to eat it.
And there's the fact that I often come to the table exhausted and sometimes I've been known to sink my head down and refuse to talk for a few minutes. Some days being a homemaker is just plain hard.
But despite the obstacles, I do believe in dinner. It doesn't have to be (it never is!) gourmet or five star. It just has to be some wholesome food that is hot and tasty. I have been taking pictures of our dinners for the last week.
And let me tell you, one of those days I thought it might just kill me to stand at that stove and do one more thing. But I did it.
(By the way, I do also believe in a frozen pizza once in a while. Sometimes it's about survival)
In the end, (or fifteen minutes later) my family might forget what they ate (Dancer: Mom, I'm hungry! Tapper: I haven't even finished washing the dinner dishes yet!) or if it looked pretty on their plates (Mom, is that an onion?) or the effort it took me to make it, but they do get a big taste of togetherness and the flavor of family. And that is delicious.