Dethroned

One of the best parts of being a mom is having my kids tell me I'm the best cook ever. Even if I'm not. I'm sure not every mom has this luxury, but 98% of the time my kids rave about what I cook them. In fact, Maddie told my stepmom that my lasagna is better - I make it from a frozen box and hers is homemade! I know not everyone can be the best cook in the world like me; I mean, it takes real skill to open that box without a single paper cut. But, seriously - they do generally enjoy my cooking minus the few meals that they don't like because they have bad taste.

Then came yesterday. Remember this post the other day when I told you about my kids newest obsession with PB&J? Well, yesterday I was making Maddie her hourly PB&J (hourly is a slight exaggeration) when she tells me she wants it "Daddy-Style." Excuse me???

She goes on to tell me that Daddy makes better PB&J sandwiches than I do. Someone call 911 because I about passed the freak out. How is this possible. So I cornered the traitor in the kitchen to find out exactly what he is doing differently to win over my biggest fan. I figured I'd have to beat the secret out of him or something.

Turns out, it's nothing. He makes it the same as me (which is a big fat DUH cause how do you make PB&J different? Hello? McFly?). The only difference is that he told her he makes his sandwiches with LOTS of peanut butter and LOTS of jelly. Even though he uses the same amount.

Now PB&J sandwiches are made "Daddy-Style" in our house. With lots of fibbing.