So I came home from teaching a class full of 4th graders how to create art like Cezanne today, when I realized that painting like the Masters builds an appetite of enormous proportions. Ravenous is too mild of a word. You know that feeling you get when it seems like you're so hungry that your stomach has started digesting itself? That's how hungry I was. But this was my fridge and my pantry that I was coming home to. I knew I was going to need to lower my expectations if I was ever going to experience any satisfaction from this meal.
With expectations duly lowered, I went to the fridge. Here's the sight that met my eyes:
The first things that jump out at me are
1) a bag of carrots
2) a bag of celery
3) a huge container of ketchup
4) a box of spinach
5) something mysterious in a bowl
This bowl looks like it might have something good in it. Let's take a look.
Umm, that's a negative. Anything that leaves pond scum-like marks on the dish deserves to be left alone. I carefully placed the wrap back across the bowl and returned it to the fridge for another unsuspecting soul to discover.
What is going on with my fridge? Someone must've switched fridges with me while I was out, because these options are way too healthy for this family. Or perhaps that's why these are the only items left in there. Hmmm.
I was so taken aback by these sparse and completely unappetizing choices that I closed the door and moved on to the freezer. Maybe there was a frozen meal left in there by the frozen meal fairy. And here's what I was greeted with in the freezer:
Dino Nuggets? Am I now reduced to eating Dino Nuggets?
This is not looking good, and I'm getting dangerously close to grazing status, but I decide to take my chances and head for the pantry, knowing full well I will surely be tested here. This is where I like to graze, for obvious reasons.
Aside from the Chewy, Gooey Chips Ahoy, did you notice the bucket and the giant ziplock full of candy? There are two more buckets, just out of range, along with a whole slew of other high salt, high fat options to fill this empty stomach. But the kids have begged me to stop eating both their favorite Gooey Chips Ahoys and their Halloween candy (all the Reese's Peanut Butter cups are gone anyway), so I reluctantly close the door and head back to the
Then it kicks in: mom mode. The mode that tells me "there's food to eat, you just need to make it." The mode that frightens me, because it reminds me that, at times like these, I am only one Dorothy Hamill haircut away from being my mother.
With renewed purpose, I revisit the fridge and see that I can make a quesadilla with guacamole; an omelet with toast; a grilled cheese with tomatoes; or nachos. All perfectly reasonable options.
But wait, what's that brick-shaped item on the second shelf, all wrapped up in foil? GOLD MINE.
The mac and cheese that I had made earlier in the week. My day is looking better already.
All warmed up, with a side of carrots, I've got nothing to complain about now. Beats Dino Nuggets any day. I leave the table with an empty plate and a full stomach.
But I will be coming back for those Gooey Chips Ahoys in about an hour.