What's wrong with those kids of mine?

On the menu for last night: roasted chicken, really and I mean really bad for you mashed potatoes, lots of heavy cream and butter, green beans, and roasted apple sauce. Sounds good, no? Since no one cooked on "You're The Chef Night" I got part of the F.F.'s to start peeling the potatoes and apples. First thing I get is;
"Mom, How many potatoes?" in stereo no less.

"Fourteen and eight apples."

"Why so many?" astute question from the third F.F. aka Will.

"Well Bub, that's normally how many I peel for mashed potatoes."

"That's a lot."

"Well you guys eat A LOT."

"No, Dad eats A LOT!"

I can't argue with his logic so I tell him, Goat (the fourth F.F.), and my niece Hannah to get to peeling. So after I am done prepping my roasted chicken, nothing too fancy just some Irish butter, lemons and the zest, salt, pepper, thyme, and some bay leaves, I go to the sink to wash my hands, and Will has blood dripping down his left thumb. He peeled his left thumb! See, I am Evil Chef Mom or maybe just a plain lower case bad mom. Will used my nice sharp ceramic peeler, he's 11, I thought he was man enough to handle it. Oh, who am I kidding, he is. Wanna know why? Because the damn kid didn't cry, or even say boo. He just kept peeling the potatoes, like a good little sous chef. Lets just say that after all the potatoes and apples were peeled they were washed very carefully.

The roasted applesauce was the hit of dinner. I roasted Macintosh apples with some more of that butter, cinnamon, nutmeg, brown sugar, and orange zest at 350 degrees for about 30 minutes. Since it was such the hit, I want to try to make it again with apples, pears, and some cranberries. If that turns out well, guess what one of the side dishes for Thanksgiving will be? Anything will be better than canned cranberry sauce. No one eats it. Why does anyone serve it? What's the meaning of life? You know the tired age old questions of life.

Dinner was great, everyone was happy.

"Hey Mom, thanks for letting us help!" Will yelled, the kid does nothing quietly.

"Yeah, thanks Auntie Ta-Ta." Hannah my lovely niece said. Her and I are like oil and water sometimes, but more on that later.

"Mom, when are you going to make that applesauce thingie again? And can I have the rest for dessert?" Goat asks." And thanks for letting me help."

Jeez, didn't they get this was punishment for not cooking on "You're The Chef Night"? I'm not doing my job right. I can't be called Evil Chef Mom proudly.