There was a time when I was a perfect parent. That time occurred well over a decade ago, before I had children. If my younger self could see me now, she would sniff, "When I have kids, I will never let them eat soup while wearing their brand new coats."
And my older more experienced self would retort, "Shush up, you skinny know-it-all. At least I convinced my daughter to take off her mittens before eating lunch. I've learned to pick my battles."
To which, my younger self would reply, "I refuse to argue with an obviously deranged woman who sets her table with plastic utensils, paper napkins, and coffee mugs instead of soup bowls."
Everything tastes better when I wear my beautiful pink coat.
Dinner last night: lasagna, garlic toast, broccoli