Like a hair in a biscuit…

GRIN # 18

Of all the things we’ve been able to eliminate with technology, one thing that’s not budging is dinner. Dinner is hanging on like a hair in a biscuit. And it wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t come every single night.

Night after night, we dirty more pots and pans. My God, we just washed them! I hate to say it, but from where I’m sitting, dinner is highly overrated. It’s all over in twenty minutes regardless of whether you’ve hand-washed the arugula, pressed the garlic cloves or, like me, ripped open that box of Hamburger Helper.

It’s unfortunate that this daily, mundane task has fallen to me, as it does to legions of people who work from home. I am lucky to have married a man who understands my aversion to cooking. Jerry doesn’t complain and he eats what’s served, in large part because he doesn’t want to take over. And that’s saying a lot because my chicken often has to go back on the grill and the rice is nearly always watery. Needless to say, I make a lot of salads—lovely no-pressure salads.

There’s only been one time Jerry defected on dinner detail. The steak was so overcooked, he put down his utensils and said simply, “I’m sorry, but I can’t eat this.” Whatever. I get points for trying, right?

Last spring, Jerry suggested I get him a bread maker for Father’s Day. “You’re going to make bread?” I asked him. “No,” he said. “So you can make me bread.” I laughed so hard my face hurt. At my house, we actually fight over who gets to eat the leftovers, and they’re not even that good. We could, of course, eat out or order out. But that gets expensive—and fattening. As irony would have it, I’m responsible for footing the grocery bill while my husband picks up other bills. I have an interest in feeding the family and not breaking the budget—an interest, not a love. It’s an unfortunate combination—I’m too cheap to order out and too overwhelmed/uninterested (pick one) to make a real effort in the kitchen.

I’m a big proponent of not wasting food; perhaps, I’m willing to admit, to a fault. If the lunchmeat is getting ready to expire, I nearly force Jerry to take it for lunch. But I’m honest about it: “Here, eat this. It’s getting ready to go bad.” Jerry is the canary in the mine. My sister says I should have an attorney on retainer just in case he brings a food poisoning case against me. She’s only kidding. I think.

Tomorrow: Fool-proof ideas  for dinner detail that won’t impress anyone, I promise.

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6 Responses to “Like a hair in a biscuit…”

  1. What cracks me up about this is I always love the things you bring to our pot luck events. Thanks for saving the best for us : )

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  3. Great info! I recently came across your blog and have been reading along. I thought I would leave my first comment. I don’t know what to say except that I have enjoyed reading. Nice blog. I will keep visiting this blog very often. http://www.attorney-dwi.info/

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