My Kraft dinner story was meant to be a lesson to my family. Instead it became a lesson for me. I love sharing my story because I have found that many people are able to relate to it one way or another.
The story goes like this: A few months ago, after much quiet fuming, I decided to make a point to my family. The point was to teach a lesson on appreciation and gratitude. Appreciation and gratitude towards me, for my cooking, specifically.
I mean, seriously, cooking is time consuming but necessary. You have to plan ahead. It takes creativity to try new things. It takes much longer to provide a dinner than the few minutes it takes to chow it down.
My plan was to cook Kraft dinner every night until someone in my family dared to ask the question. “Why are we eating Kraft dinner yet again?” My plan was for this question to lead into a little lesson on how a little ‘thank-you’ would be greatly appreciated by me.
One night of Kraft dinner, led to the next. Five night later… and still not a word! No thanks, no grunts and no questioning. Just the steady sound of chewing and swallowing.
I couldn’t believe it! So I quit. Not quit cooking in general, just quit cooking Kraft dinner. I didn’t even say anything to my family about why we had Kraft dinner five nights in a row, and no-one asked. I felt I had lost a battle.
I shared my frustration with someone close to me. She said, “Have you thought to communicate your frustration?”
“Of course not! I should not have to ask for a ‘thank-you’ once in awhile!” was my obvious and stubborn response. And then, I could only agree. Yes, the big lesson I learned was "communicate.” A month or two went by before I took a moment to communicate to my family that a little ‘thank-you’ once in awhile would be well-received.
Chalk it up to another one of those life lessons.