My family, I suspect, like most others, does the post-work, pre-dinner dance that goes a little like:
What do you want for dinner?
I dunno, what are you thinking?
[from the sidelines]: Pizza! Nachos! Chocolate! Chicken nuggets! Let’s go to McDonald’s! Swiss Chalet! Montanas! Cookies! Can I have dessert? Will there be extra? NO SWEET POTATOES.
Um. Yeah, I dunno… do you have any ideas? Salad? Soup?
No, not really… maybe like fish or hamburgers (or two other completely opposite things)…Hmmm. Yeah, I dunno… Well, what about pasta?
[from the sidelines]: OOOH LASAGNA.
And that, my friends, is why we eat out way more often than we should.
We do this pretty much every night. Shit. You. Not.
And here’s the thing… I like cooking. I do! I actually really like making meals, and I especially like that M gets involved in the prep and the clean up (because that’s really nice to share) and I love sitting down with my two favourite people and sharing a meal. But OH MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS, I hate being asked what to eat.
And also having my question answered by a question.
Sometimes I wonder if it would be less tedious if I had a less tedious day job. Would it be easier to come up with a dinner plan if I didn’t need to be creative and “on” all day? What if I had to make fewer decisions? Would my personal decision-making be easier? Probably not. But I’d like to fantasize and believe that’s true.
Perhaps coming up with our dinner plan would be easier if I wasn’t already borderline hangry by the time I get home.
Late at night, I occasionally think about how great it would be to be one of those families that flawlessly executes on their weekly meal plan. Tuesday means tacos, and Friday is for pizza! I’ve tried. It’s never worked.
I am willing to accept I am the common denominator, by the way. I know I am. It’s called laziness (or a “fucks” shortage, if you will), and I’m rolling with it because if I can’t commit to following a weekly meal plan, I can’t complain about needing to ask everyone what they want for dinner.
TELL ME: Are you organized AF and follow a meal plan, or are you a “what the fresh hell do you want to eat?” family like mine?