Sometimes I hate the job...

So I'm getting over a particularly nasty lower-intestinal thing. Well, I should probably qualify that, for ME, ANY gastro-intsestinal thing is a big deal, but that's not really important to the story. So, I'm just getting over it, and decided tonight to make dinner. The only thing that seems even slightly appealing is Pad Thai (don't ask - I think it's the combination of noodles and peanuts). ANYWAY, I go to the market and buy a box kit, fresh bean sprouts, green onion - I'm ready. Dinnertime comes and I set to work. I split the chicken bits in half, cook our half for the Pad Thai and do the whole breading thing for the girls' portion. I made two whollly separate meals. I got everything ready - breaded chicken and carrots with honey for the girls, Pad Thai for us. Here's the kicker - and the whole point of the story - I get the sauce and noodles into the pan and start stir-frying (the last step of the kit) and the smell hits me. No go, Houston, we are NO GO for launch. The girls ate, BETWEEN them, mind you - two pieces of chicken (and not WHOLE pieces, either, but portions that I'd cut for them) and three carrots. FIVE bits of food between the two of them. Colin ate the Pad Thai and I had a bowl of vanilla yogurt with granola and blueberries. So now I'm pissed off not only because I essentially wasted a grocery store trip and 40 minutes of my life preparing a meal that only one out of four actually ate AND I still want Pad Thai. Sigh. Sometimes I hate the Mommy job...