I don't f*cking want to!

I don't know why, but I always have a hard time actually writing out the "F" word on social media, or anywhere else, really, except in texts to my husband, so I put that little star there like that makes it any better. But, I really enjoy the "F" word as an adjective (and occasionally as a noun or verb) and so I continue to use it because it's really quite eloquent in its own way.

Now that I've explained myself, this post is about things I really do not want to do.

I don't want to drive my kids around everywhere all the time. So, today I didn't. Now that two of my three still living at home can drive, why should I have to drive anywhere, really? I already went to the grocery store today, so my daughter took my son to the dentist. And it made me realize how often I'm someplace I really don't need to be, except to be the driver. How many hours I've spent watching dance classes and baseball games in the rain, reading People magazine at the dentist (wait, that's actually a plus), being pissed off at the ortho because their WiFi sucks so I'm forced to read some inane parenting magazine, sitting in the parking lot at rehearsal because it's only an hour and I don't have time to go home, all my errands are done, and if I go anywhere I'll just spend money I don't have on stuff I don't need......you get the picture.

Sure, sometimes that's fun stuff - like when your kid makes a good play or sticks their cartwheel on the beam and you got to see it. I was never the drop-off mom - I stuck around to watch or help. But now that they are old enough to drive, does my kid really need me to stick around for an hour while they get their teeth cleaned? Nope.

I also don't want to make dinner. Like, never. Well, that's a lie - four or five times a year I'm struck with some domestic virus that makes me actually enjoy cooking and I glow with pride that I've prepared a home-cooked meal. But most of the time, I cook dinner because I have to. Or do I? It's not like I'm feeding toddlers anymore. No one needs me to cut their meat or scream at them to eat their vegetables. Everyone is capable of putting food in their mouths, even if they are too lazy to make more than cereal because taquitos take a minute and fifteen seconds in the microwave. So, DO I have to cook? Sometimes I just don't f*cking want to.

I never want to clean up someone else's mess. This includes cups, cheese stick wrappers, dishes that have not been rinsed off, discarded socks, and used napkins. But I do it. On the daily. I've spent almost twenty-one years running in the never-ending circle of cleaning one mess while creating another. What if I just stopped? Hmmmm...........

Some days I don't want to do anything. I just want to come home from work, sit on my ass in front of the computer trolling Facebook, or binge on repeat episodes of "Criminal Minds" or just crawl into bed and read a book. And, really, what's stopping me? Sure, there's the guilt that I "have" to feed everyone or do something productive. But sometimes, I just don't f*cking want to. And that's just fine with me.

What's for dinner?

Last night my sister and I were having a conversation about making dinner. Ok, it was more about how we hate to cook and making dinner for ungrateful people day in and day out is a pain in the ass and don't you tell me otherwise. But I digress. The point is, she brought up an idea for a dinner delivery service and then we started talking about those places that are cropping up all over now, where for the price of one month's mortgage, you and twelve of your closest friends can go and stand around in a commercial kitchen for an evening, churning out a dozen or so "dinners" that you can pop in your freezer and take out conveniently on any given evening so that your family enjoys a piping hot, "homemade" meal instead of the usual slop you normally serve. Oh the joys! And you can drink wine while doing it, which means that come about recipe number five, you're reading the ingredient list and "1 cup cheese" turns into "1 fuck sheesh" and you end up dumping the whole bucket in. Because, hey, cheese is good! And so is this wine. Anyway.

The thing is, you create these dinners that you "just" have to add salad and bread to make a complete meal. JUST? Do you know how freakin' time consuming it is to make a salad? I love it when people say "Oh, I'll just throw together a salad and call it dinner". Whatever! You have to wash and tear the lettuce, probably breaking at least one nail on your turbo charged salad spinner, wash, chop and add other brightly colored veggies, and then toss it all with a wee bit of low cal dressing. And, hello, that's WORK and isn't the point of have prepackaged meals supposed to be cutting down on the work that is making dinner?

Then, there's the whole freezer thing. These dinner places suggest you take your meal out the day before so it can properly and safely thaw in the fridge while you go about your business. HELLO? More work, and if I could remember to take anything out of the freezer, we'd have food ready to cook every night and I've have no need for the stupid prepackaged meal service in the first place! Who remembers to thaw their meal two days before? I don't even know what I'm having for lunch at breakfast time. I can't plan that far ahead!!!

Dinner is the biggest meal of the day, prepared at the end of the day, when people are at their worst. We're tired, starving and some kid just got on our last nerve. The last thing I want to do is realize my stupid dinner is stuck in the freezer. I want to eat NOW! Never mind that the ravenous pack of kids around me can't wait one single minute and thus are chewing and slobbering their way through snacks so that by the time I've prepared a meal, they've already eaten a meal of crappy snacks. And I'm supposed to feel guilty now because  I didn't provide a nutritionally balanced dinner? Because it was stuck in the freezer and I'm so tired that even tearing a piece of lettuce requires a muscle set I'm sure has been exhausted by noon that day? Uh-uh!

So, I say, be warned, my friends! Do not be fooled by the wine and the "girls' night out" at those make-your-own-dinner places. Sure, you'll have fun assembling ingredients and chatting it up with your friends. You will exclaim over adding oregano to a chicken recipe like you just found the freaking holy grail, and a little light will go on inside you saying "oh, I could totally make this at home". But do not be fooled! You will go home with twelve large-sized ziploc bags full of delicious meals for four (except there's six people in your family, stupid) and those meals will mock you in the freezer for months until, one day, very far in the future, you will pull out a mysterious rectangular lump completely encased in ice and say "what the hell is this?" and dump it in the trash. Dinner's Ready? No it fucking isn't! Just open a can of Spaghetti-o's for the kids and take that bottle of wine into the bathtub with you. You'll save money AND feed your family and what's not to love about that?

Toil and Trouble

As I write this Jeff is in the kitchen, slaving away, making tonight's dinner PLUS dinners for two more nights. Now, I say "slaving away" because to me, that's what cooking is - toil and trouble. Not fun! But for Jeff it's like zen. In fact, he's even happier if I don't bug him during this time (all the better for me!) I don't really get it - I mean, I CAN cook, I just don't particularly enjoy it. Oh sure, it's nice to get a meal together and put it on the table all pretty (presentation is everything!), but I am just not skilled at bringing it all together at once, hot and ready to eat, and looking like a restaurant meal. This, Jeff can do. So, I say let's all embrace our gifts and Jeff can cook and I'll blog.

Of course, I am the happy recepient of said meals and it's a very lovely thing to sit down to a beautiful meal. I feel like I eat in a restaurant most nights, and especially the nights the kids are gone, because that's when Jeff has more time and freedom to experiment with new recipes. And he knows it will be appreciated and not met with an "ick" from ungrateful children! (You know who you are, you who are reading this!) I, personally, love it and feel like it's the most pampered thing in the world! I once took a survey that asked if you could have one thing forever - a maid, chauffer or cook, which would you choose? And I chose a cook! And lo and behold, not a few years later, I married one! (He's not a bad maid, either, when pressed into service, and of course, he drives everywhere so, I guess I got a three-for-one).

Tonight he's cooking buffalo steaks. I have never eaten buffalo, I don't think, so this should be interesting. I'm not much of a meat eater, so on the infrequent occasions we do eat red meat, it's a pretty good treat! But buffalo? Just sounds kind of weird. But I'm up for trying anything. In fact, just this afternoon I requested my favorite tomato basil soup from Safeway. Jeff went to Fred Meyer instead and found a similar (he thought) soup and brought that home, heated it up and brought it to me. Well, it was tomato gorgonzola soup and I'm sorry to say, I HATE GORGONZOLA! To me, blue cheese, gorgonzola, any of those "stinky sock" cheeses have the most disgusting, musty, dirty laundry smelling taste. They are inedible!! Who thought of making a food that tastes like something old and dirty? Ick. Needless to say, I did not eat the soup (but I DID taste it). Gross, gross, gross.

I'm not even a picky eater, but there are a few things I just cannot stomach. Like those cheeses. And asparagus (but I'm legitimately allergic to them as well). Radishes are icky. And I'm not a huge fan of peppers (red, green, yellow). I despise lamb (also allergic to it). And I don't really have any desire to eat any type of bugs, no matter how fancy they are served. Or caviar. Which I've had but don't particularly like and can't get past the reality of what they are! But beyond that, I will try anything. I remember being 12 and seeing my parents eat an artichoke for the first time. They tried for over an hour to get me to taste it and when I finally did, I thought it was the best thing I ever tasted! They also fed me escargot once (and yes, those are bugs in my book!) but I believe I was duped into trying them.

Anyway, I heard the clatter of plates which is a good sign my buffalo steak is done! Dinner is served. Bon apetit!