Chicken Pot Pie

At some point I really do think that all women turn into their mothers. Tonight I took another step toward becoming Joan as I served frozen chicken pot pies to my family for dinner. I'm not really sure what made me do it. It started Sunday at Sam's Club when the green Marie Callender's box caught my eye. Hmmm, chicken pot pie, I thought to myself. Quick to prepare, fairly nutricious and definitely nostalgic. Don was a little hesitant to actually transfer the box from the freezer to our shopping cart but he did it. I'm sure he was even less thrilled when I announced that I would be serving them for dinner tonight and not saving them for one of the nights when he was on the road.

The irony is that I absolutely abhorred chicken pot pie nights at our house when we were growing up. The only meal that was worse was creamed chipped beef on toast which I think my mom only made once. That dinner ended with us girls being sent to our room for not eating what was on our plates followed shortly thereafter by my dad sneaking us food because he too thought that dinner was disgusting.

So, what do you suppose makes us continue the chicken pot pie cycle from generation to generation? Could it be something deeply profound and rooted in our subconscious or it could be pure and simple necessity for a guick and easy meal. It's like a lot of things in life. I'm not sure anyone really enjoys it but it's just what you know. Or maybe I'm just making a big deal out of a little pie. Either way, dinner was served and bellies are full.

Simply stated: We'll be looking for a snack by 9:oo!