It is dinner time again and I give up. I have thrown in the white (tea)towel.
I have tried, I really have, but I just can’t do it. It is too much: the entrée, the side dishes, the right amount of vegetables, the nutritional value, having to substitute ingredients, how to get it all ready at the same time. It is just too much.
So I have decided to bring in reinforcements.
I booked an appointment at one of those meal preparation places. One evening next week I will go to their kitchen and assemble eight entrees for my family, following simple, mindless directions. I have further enlisted their help by ordering two pre-made side dishes. I know this is extravagant. I am a stay-at-home-mom, I am supposed to be doing this stuff myself.
Aren’t I?
These feelings of guilt are quickly brushed away by telling myself that I am simply displaying exemplary skills of delegation and prioritization. We all have skills and talents that we bring to our jobs. Mine just don’t happen to be in the kitchen. Oh, I can follow a recipe all right, but trying to find a different one each night is making me crazy. Then there are all those ingredients, making sure I have the correct ones is enough to put me right over the edge. And don’t even get me started on substitutions.
So I have conceded. My white (tea)towel is in the ring.
Like this:
Be the first to like this post.