Dinner at 8…or got ate, or something

When it comes to meal time at my house, Roy and I have somewhat differing views on the subject. If it was up to me, we’d eat every meal out…but of course, I don’t usually pay for them. If it was up to Roy, we’d eat every meal in…but of course, he doesn’t usually cook them.

So, we nightly perform a little dance we like to call the “what are we going to do about dinner?” He can come up with a ton of excuses for why we should eat in and I can come up with an equal number of excuses for why we should eat out.

First, it’s a waiting game. Roy waits until the last possible hope he has of me cooking before he says, “Uh, what’s for supper?”

I, on my side, have been waiting as long as I can for him to offer to take me out. “Well, I don’t know, perhaps I could defrost something and we could eat in a couple of hours.” I’m counting on him being too hungry to want to do that.20151116_093656

“Well, okay. Maybe I’ll have a piece of jelly bread while I’m waiting,” he’s affable and agreeable if he thinks I may fix something.

“There’s no jelly and no bread,” I snarl, “and if we don’t go out to eat, you’re getting oatmeal and not with a smile.”

Then, there are all the holidays I can come up with for going out to celebrate.

“It’s Restaurant Appreciation Day,” I announce as we both come in the door after work.

“What’s that?” he’s suspicious immediately.

“That’s where you are supposed to show how much you appreciate your favorite restaurant by going to it to eat,” I reply hopefully.

“And which restaurant is your favorite,” he asks, but he already knows the answer.

“Oh, I’m not fussy, I like them all. You pick one,” I am so delighted I may get to go out.

“I really like Fauth’s Kitchen, that’s my favorite,” he answers craftily.

“I wouldn’t eat there if I was you,” I say between my teeth, “because the cook there is very likely to spit in your food.” So much for being subtle!

I’ve tried everything. I told Roy one night we had to eat out because I had sprained my wrist and couldn’t handle the pans. He very obligingly came out and moved the pans for me every time they needed it.

Another time, I told him that I was just too tired to cook right then. He generously volunteered to take the phone off the hook so I could have a nap before I cooked dinner. He said he would have some jelly bread to tide him over.

Then there was the time I told him it was “National Give your Kitchen a Rest Day.” He fired up the grill for me.

Tonight, I tried a new tactic. “Honey, I spent so much time washing and ironing your shirts so that you will be ready for work, that I just didn’t get anything started for supper. I don’t know how soon I could get a meal going and I’m sure you’re starving.”

“I’ll get something out of the freezer for you,” he answered calmly. “You can get out the bread and jelly for me.”

© Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In the Well, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In The Well with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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