Hour Fourteen

What do you want for dinner?

Food.

Seriously, could you be more specific?

Edible food.

Really?

I don’t know, what have we got?

And so begins the ritual…

Listing every ingredient, the endless contents of cupboard, fridge, freezer, shelf.

Bantering possibilities…

Chicken? We had that yesterday.

Spaghetti? I’m tired of spaghetti.

French toast? We’re out of bread.

Tuna casserole? Not now, not ever.

Burgers? Hot dogs? Mac ‘n cheese? Pasta? Soup? Rice and beans? Fish sticks? Pot roast? Tacos? Stew?

Doesn’t matter, honey, I’ll leave it up to you…

A nightly debate about something so simple, until at my wits end….

I order a pizza instead.

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