Tuesday, April 2, 2019

Dinnertime Drama: Rant Edition

I'm in a curmudgeonly mood today...

It's a little bit after four o'clock in the afternoon and I was just sitting her thinking that Matt would be home soon and then... queue the dinner time drama. And, you know, I kind of dread it. Okay, more than kind of. I dread it. I would almost do anything to avoid this nightly ritual where he looks at me like I'm somehow the party responsible for all domestic responsibilities, including but not limited to cooking dinner. Because that look is always followed closely by disappointment that I didn't thaw anything out and then expectation that I'll do something about it.

Every single goddamn day, we go through this dinner time dance where we go back and forth about what to eat. He asks what we have, I say I forgot to thaw anything out, and we try to decide what we're going to do instead. He never wants to go out to dinner anymore, though he never had a problem with it when we lived in Texas. A few days ago he went so far as to tell me he doesn't like to eat out and never has... which is absurd in a way that's shocking to think he even said it.

Tonight is not going to be any different. I didn't take anything out and we need to get groceries. So, we're going to have to either have something ordered, or I'm going to have to talk him around to going out to dinner. Since he spent half the early morning hours throwing up today, he's going to be particularly picky about what he wants to eat (as he should), which is going to make figuring out what to eat even more difficult. This is seriously a waste of a good hour of our time every single fucking evening. Every single one.

I know this is something all married couples go through once in a while. In fact, there are memes about it all over the internet. Yes, hilarious. But after 20 years it's starting to not be so hilarious. And, while I know that I could prevent it just by cooking dinner... I just don't want to some nights. I work too. I'm tired. I want to chill, rather than spend my evening cooking and cleaning up the mess. I don't want to. Simple as that. I should not have to be responsible for dinner every single night.

And, he's home... time to go to war over dinner.