You know you're a mother if...

William came up to me a little while ago and stuck something between me and the keyboard.

"Do you want this?"

It's a plastic tray with a half eaten t.v. dinner in it. There's some gnawed up chicken in the main section of the tray, one scrape of mashed potatoes in the top left hand corner pocket, a dozen soggy green beans in the right hand pocket, and an untouched chocolate brownie in between. I take it from him and he walks away.

If there's anything that looks less appealing then a t.v. dinner, it's a half eaten t.v. dinner. Despite this, I take a cautious bite of the chicken. Hmmm, not as bad as all that. It's got rosemary sauce on it. Not what I'd planned on having for breakfast but... waste not want not.

Proof, that I'm a mother. When push comes to shove (meaning, Jeff isn't up and awake yet to push the task onto him) I'm still willing to eating my children's leftovers.