Now Serving Table 6
By Susan M.
There are things that you would think that might be the bane of my existence. Bats, perhaps. But I’ll let you in on a little secret – the bane of my existence is dinner.
No really. It’s dinner.
It’s not so much the actual food of dinner that drives me crazy, nor, in all honestly, the family around the table part. Although, around the 40th “Why did the cow cross the road” joke, it comes pretty close. (For some inexplicable reason, this is what dinner winds up as at my house, and a refined sense of humor is clearly not in my children’s genetic code.)
It’s the decision of what to have. I would (almost) rather personally wrestle the bats out of my attic than make a decision on what to make for dinner. (Not that there are bats, per say, but I think you get the idea.) And it’s not that I have horribly picky eaters, everyone will pretty much eat something that goes with the main dish, if not the main dish itself.
But heavens to Betsy, the picking is likely to kill me. We have designated nights for pizza (Friday) and spaghetti (Sunday), but the other 5 nights are dreadful. Do we grill something? Order something? (Almost always no, we live in restaurant wasteland, I tell you) Meat? No Meat? Will the kids eat that? Will my husband? Do I even have that?
Just shoot me.
I’ve tried those places where you make 478 meals that you freeze in advance. I’ve tried menu planning for the week so that I only have to make the decision once. I’ve even tried buying food daily so that I have what I need. They have all ended the same way – unidentifiable science projects in the freezer/frig/cabinet that get tossed some unspeakable time later, while I stand there, gap-mouthed, trying to find something to eat.
So I’ve come up with a new plan. We’re going to have people bring us dinner every night. May take some moving around, since I hear other neighborhoods are pretty generous with their residents, but I’m sure selling the house once a month won’t be too troublesome.
Line up, guys, who’s up first? And just so you know, we’ve already grilled, had chicken, and can’t have spaghetti until Sunday.