I made my kids sloppy joes.
This is a big deal.
This is an act that fully demonstrates my unending devotion to the little demons I have spawned.
Because sloppy joes are terrible.
I first discovered the terribleness of sloppy joes as a kid. Strangely enough it was shortly after I discovered that I liked sloppy joes. I, super picky eater of a kid, had just deemed them an edible food when I visited a friend and discovered the terrible truth.
All sloppy joes are not created equal.
Some of them are nothing more than a nasty mash of ground meat in tomato based substance (which I found palatable as a child because it was basically meat and white bread) but many rotten mothers hide vegetables in their sloppy joes. That’s right, vegetables hidden in what was thought to be delicious food. My faith in sloppy joes was shattered and never recovered.
But my hatred of making sloppy joes stems from more than just my childhood betrayal. The real problem with making sloppy joes is the ketchup. It may be Un-American of me but I really hate ketchup. It’s not just that I dislike eating it. I’d really prefer not to smell it or have it touch me, or anything else within a 20 foot radius of me.
I seriously hate ketchup.
But I have girls who love ketchup. If they had their way everything would come with ketchup. Fortunately, they don’t have their way, they have my way. Because, in the monarchy that is our household, the queen refuses to deal with ketchup unless absolutely necessary.
This has resulted in a “sure kid, you can have ketchup with your hot dog but you have to be the one to touch the bottle and then you have to rinse your plate off when you are done before it goes in the dishwasher because I’m not getting near that evil substance” sort of policy.
I hear ketchup is made from tomatoes, I don’t find this to be at all plausible because tomatoes in all forms are quite palatable. Ketchup is not.
But…Ivy found a recipe all on her own for sloppy joes and asked nicely. I shuddered as I read the amount of required ketchup and went to the grocery store for buns.
Because that’s how much I love my girls.
Then, because I do so love my children and regularly force them to eat things with asparagus and onions, I braved the ketchup and made them sloppy joes (without hidden veggies, because if I was going to make the stuff they were going to eat it!).
They looked nasty, they smelled worse, they brought back horrible memories of sneaky vegetable filled sloppy joes and the girls ate them all up and asked for seconds.
I cringed scooping up another sandwich but consoled myself with the knowledge that I had really showed my children how much I loved them, making them something special yet repulsive to me just because they are such good kids. Clearly this batch of slop should earn me extra special mom points and…
“Could you put extra ketchup on mine?”
What?!? Seriously? After all I’ve done!?!
I delivered the bottle to the table and backed away as Ivy applied more ketchup to her sandwich. Then Jane asked for ketchup, and a banana.
Kids, give them an inch and they try to take a mile. Clearly Jane was unsatisfied with the level of devotion I was showing and she’s going to stay that way.
The only food item that can compete with the horror of ketchup is the banana.
I love my children so much I made them sloppy joes, but there will be no bananas in the house while this queen is still ruling.