 |
 |
 |
|
|
Let's Eat! |  |
|
I like heavy metal, chord crunching, head banging, blast-your-eardrums rock and roll; he likes other music. He would be happy with a pet rock; I currently live with three dogs, two guinea pigs, three cats and would have even more if he hadn’t had me banned from the Humane Society and all of the local pet shops. He’s extremely athletic; I don’t jog for fear of making my beer foam. I know some families share different household chores but in our family, I do all of the meal preparation. I do all of the planning, shopping and cooking. But in the interests of fairness and because I know this conversation plays out in many homes, I will simply label the following conversation “H” and “H” to symbolize His and Her. H: What do you want for dinner tonight? H: Anything is fine. H: Do you know how much I hate it when you say that? H: No, but I have the feeling you’re going to tell me. H: I hate it when you say that. Do you have any idea how hard it is to come up with new meals for this family? H: It’s just that anything is fine. Really. H: Would it kill you to make a suggestion? H: Spaghetti. H: Spaghetti? H: Yeah. What’s wrong with spaghetti? H: Do you have any idea how hard it is go make spaghetti? There’s the sauce that simmers all day. There’s the meatballs. There’s the pasta. What kind of pasta? Thin spaghetti for our son. Regular spaghetti for you. Funky-shaped pasta for our daughter. I suppose you want a salad with that? And maybe bread? And oh, we’re out of Parmesan. Have you tried serving spaghetti without Parmesan to our son? His lower lip trembles, his eyes fill with tears and he lies down on the floor and swears he has nothing to live for. H: Geez, sorry. It doesn’t have to be spaghetti. How about a roast? H: A roast? H: Yeah, what’s wrong with a roast? H: Do you have any idea how hard it is to cook a roast for this family? Do you want it rare or well done? Vegetables? Rolls? Gravy or barbecue sauce? Crunchy from the oven or soft from the crockpot? Pork roast? Beef roast? And the expense! I hope you like Top Ramen, buddy, because that’s all we’ll be able to afford for the rest of the month. H: Okay, fine. No to spaghetti. No to roast. How about tacos? H: Tacos? H: Yeah, tacos. H: Do you have any idea how hard it is to make tacos? First you have to decide what kind of meat. Then, make the meat and decide how much to season it. Do you want crunchy tacos or soft tacos? Grate the cheese, chop the lettuce, set out the condiments. Do you want chips? And the mess. Tacos! You want tacos for dinner? H: Okay. Don’t cook. Let’s order pizza. H: Pizza? H: Yeah, pizza. What’s wrong with pizza? H: I’m glad you asked. Where do we order the pizza? Try to find coupons in this house where everything gets shoved in the same drawer when company shows up. One likes one place, one likes another. What kind of crust? Thin or thick? Stuffed or naked? What toppings? H: Just get half of the pizza one way and half the other. H: That won’t work because our daughter wants olives and our son hates olives and says the smell ruins the entire pizza. You want pepperoni but it keeps me up all night and I’m out of antacids. Our son wants sausage but our daughter has decided to be vegetarian for the month. We could get plain cheese but last time they put on too much cheese that made our son gag and you said tasted too plain. H: You know what? I’m not hungry anymore. H: Oh, that’s okay. I’m on a diet, too. What do you want for dinner tomorrow night? H: Anything is fine. |
2003 All Right Reserved