What's for Dinner?

 It’s the question I hate, and yet, it is asked of me at least 4 times a day. 

What’s for dinner?

Why does it bother me so much?  I think it’s because I hear it more than anything else.  Hi mom, what’s for dinner?  Where’s mom?  What’s for dinner?  Is mom down there? What’s for dinner?

I’m reduced to a single purpose—feed the hungries. 

And I know I’m so much more.  Sometimes, I fantasize about being simply, not available.  No food in the house.  Nothing is for dinner.  Someone else needs to answer that question.

I realize my hatred of this question is irrational and impractical.  I am the only one who can answer the question.  Afterall, I plan the weekly meals, do all of the grocery shopping and cooking.  Dinner is my jam! Yet, I still can not stand being asked.  So, how can I avoid the question?

A dry erase board.  I bought one specifically for this purpose.  It has the days of the week and I populate it with each nights dinner plan.  There is space for one to suggest a new item for the following week.  IT’s perfect.  No one needs to ask.  But if they do, I can simply refer them to the board.  It’s worked out quite well, until last week, disaster struck.

I did the weekly shopping and meal plan on Thursday evening.  But Saturday morning when I went to start the coffee pot and refill my water bottle at the refrigerator, the circuit tripped.  I reset it.  It tripped again.  I noticed water on the floor.  I opened the freezer.  All of the ice was floating in the ice bin.  My stomach lurched.  Our refrigerator, all full of this weeks food, was broken and warming up by the minute.

All meal plans were out the window.  We would eat what was in the fridge topped with the strangest of condiments to use up before a repair person could come (more than a week later!).  Rice with mustard?  YES!  Teriyaki toast?  SURE!  Pasta salad with ketchup?  THIS is now a thing!

But now with the food all gone, I have no meal plan.  The board was wiped clean.  One evening, Ivy went to check it and with a solemn face said “No dinner?”.  I thought she might cry.  The truth is, I had no plan.  It was all about whatever canned processed items I could find to create something edible that had no leftovers.  I was at the mercy of my pantry.

And yet they continued to ask the dreaded question. 

Ever my hero, my beloved husband rushed to my rescue.  He took a dry erase marker and wrote our plans for the week.  I cannot even describe it.  I would never do it justice.  I have simply posted the photo for you to absorb it fully.  If you’re confused, perfect.  I’m sure, after all, that was the goal.  As we head into week 2 without a fridge, I still have no idea what I’m making.  It’s possible that many of these will make an encore appearance.


In case you can't read it:

Sunday--the question always asked is "Are we going to church?"
Monday:  Figure it out
Tuesday:  You're on your own
Wednesday:  Cat (we do have 4)
Thursday:  N/A
Friday:  Garbage (not what you're thinking)
Saturday: Leftover Cat



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