Yes, I missed a few days after my previous post. Let’s move on.

Dinner. I love dinner. Especially when someone makes it for me. Not so much when I have to make it myself. But the reality is such that I have to. And not just for two people. If it’s just me and my husband we are very willing to scrounge for food and eat what’s available/edible. After work and daycare pick up the last thing I want to do is cook. I run on exactly 10% battery after 5 pm so I have absolutely no interest in socializing with my kitchen.

This all sounds great. But I own a child. Like it has to be fed and clothed, etc. Since I am always experiencing mom guilt (we will explore this topic later) I try to whip up some sort of home cooked meal every other day at least. On Mondays he eats leftovers ’cause I inevitably cook something on the weekend that I stow away. Tuesday to Friday is a mystery. “What to make for dinner” is a thought that plagues me all through my workday. I don’t put this much thought in to anything else.

As I tap through my keyboard or sip my coffee all I think about is the contents of my refrigerator that I can summon into cooked food. “Should I use the shriveled up broccoli or make pasta? Should I cook him oats? Is there a banana at home? ‘Cause that’s the only way he’ll eat oats. He didn’t have rice yesterday so maybe I should make khichdi. But I do not have the patience to watch over a cooker and nor do I have any vegetables. Ooooh, I will defrost the chicken and boil the potatoes and – ” that’s as far as my thought process goes by this time it’s 5 pm. My son is home and I have given him veggie chips, two slices of cheese and an egg. I will then pour milk into him and pray to the good Lord that he sleeps at an appropriate time.

I do not worry about Wednesdays. Cause Wednesday is chocolate croissant day. We go to the bakery after pick up for a treat and I watch as my scrawny two year old inhales a buttery chocolate croissant.