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晚饭时间，家里的餐桌上却冷冷清清，摆满了垃圾食品。家人还未到齐，已开吃的人则一言不发，狼吞虎咽……过去可不是这样!该做出改变了。 It’s suppertime in my house, but it resembles nothing like the Leave it to Beaver-style dinners I grew up with.[1] My husband isn’t home from work yet, my 13-year-old son is still at his friend’s house, and my 15-year-old daughter is glued to Facebook.[2] I serve up[3] four plates of food anyway. The frozen fish sticks are cooked yet soggy.[4] The fries are limp[5] but edible. The canned corn is mushy, and the bagged salad, which expired two days ago, is looking tired despite an injection of cucumber slices and baby tomatoes.[6] No wonder my family has failed to be prompt[7]. But Sarah’s tutor is scheduled to arrive in half an hour, at which time the rattling in the kitchen must cease, offering peace and quiet to the studious pair.[8] When my husband and son finally roll in one after the other, Sarah and I have eaten, she’s back at the screen, and I’m scraping plates while digesting disappointment over our family-meal fiasco: crappy food, late arrivals and no conversations.[9] Discouragement set aside, I microwave two cold dinners and shove them in front of the latecomers.[10] Miraculously, by the time the tutor arrives, the boys have inhaled dinner, the dishwasher is loaded and the kitchen is clean.[11] | 
