For weeks my kids have been playing “restaurant” – imagining menus, practicing with play food, setting up blankets and laundry baskets in their room to be their dining room.  This past week, they even made a menu on the computer and printed it out.  Tim and I have been the recipients of many “do you want to try this?” requests of their imaginary creations, and “do you want to come to our restaurant?” pleas, when…honestly?…playing pretend is about the furthest thing from enjoyable for me.  But, I have half-heartedly given in, sort of secretly hoping that the end of this phase would come sooner rather than later.

Yesterday, though?  Yesterday I didn’t want to play. Yesterday, after watching my kids excitedly running around setting up their restaurant yet again, when I was asked I said no.  I can be pretty heartless, I know.  I saw their dejected faces as they left the room and I sighed.  I thought about how much I don’t like this part of being a parent.  You know…the part when I need to sacrifice what I prefer for the much greater good of showing my kids that they are valued and loved.  More times than not, after seeing their disappointment, I would have shrugged it off with some lame excuse of them needing to learn that things can’t always go their way…which is true, but it should never be because their mom’s being selfish.

This time, though, I was convicted.

I asked them how they would like to play restaurant with real food.  I saw the giddiness such a simple thought brought them.  And I proceeded to instruct them in how to prepare dinner for Tim and me (and them, too, but they were just eating at home…not at “The Ruehle’s Italian Restaurant”).

(I suppose this would have been a great time to instruct in utensil placement, but I guess that will have to happen another day)

Since Italian was not on my menu for the evening, some improvisation was necessary.  What we ended up with?  Our version of chicken parmesan…dino chicken nuggets with homemade marinara sauce and a combination of cheddar and parmesan cheese…served over spaghetti, with salad and garlic bread.

They set the table with candles and cloth napkins.

They pretended to be waiters, gave us menus and took our orders.  They served our food and cleared our dishes.  We “tipped” them with Hershey’s kisses.

It made their day.  And it was a small victory for me…over selfishness, over laziness, over heartlessness.  These kids are so precious to me, but I sometimes forget that they need me to show them.  Still, I will trust in God’s faithfulness to continue the work He’s begun in me…and to work in my kids’ lives in spite of my imperfections.  He is a good God, and these kids are an amazing gift.