From the moment I wake up in the morning I dread it – the inevitable “what’s for dinner?” question. It haunts me at work, during pick-up and the moment I open the garage door, because the little people and the big guy can’t live on fruit snacks no matter how much they want to.
I hate figuring out what to serve each night.
I hate chopping, boiling, sautéing and baking.
I hate grocery shopping.
I hate it all.
My disgust with dinnertime didn’t happen overnight.
It has been years in the making.
From the ripe age of three, it was just my dad and me, and I have to credit all my culinary expertise or lack thereof to him. I remember vividly the first time he tried to make macaroni and cheese for us. It didn’t go well, the noodles were crunchy and it resembled something like wallpaper paste. As the years passed it got a little better, but there were many nights filled with Salisbury Steak TV Dinners and cereal. I didn’t get much practice in the kitchen, but at least we ate together.
Throughout the years I’ve gotten better at cooking, but I still don’t share the passion that other people have for it. Perhaps it’s because after working all day, the last thing I want to do is slave over a stove. I’d rather play with the kiddos or do that never-ending pile of laundry or just sit for five minutes and stare off into space.
Yep, I’d rather do laundry and stare into space than make dinner.
A couple of years ago I enlisted the help of a national magazine to teach me how to cook and stay sane in the kitchen. Some of their tips stuck with me, but others (like the all-day Sunday meal prep) didn’t stick. Sorry, that’s not how I like to spend a Sunday, especially when it’s only one of two days I get to hang with the family, do laundry, clean the toilets, and again stare into space.
I really like to stare into space, but in all seriousness I make dinner because I have to not because I like to. However, I sit down to dinner with my family because I LOVE them, and that’s all that matters even if dinner is from a box.
So…is dinnertime the bane of your existence, or are your culinary talents equivalent to the Iron Chef? Oh, and what are YOU having for dinner?
*That last question may or may not be a feeble attempt to solicit an idea for tonight’s dinner…just keeping it real.