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Laziness Takes Planning and Effort
By Lisa Barker.
Deciphering what I scrawled on a Tupperware lid for a container I chucked in the freezer months ago is not one of my better skills. But I can always use it to my advantage.
The other night I defrosted what I thought was beef stew and came to discover later that it was this mysterious opaque liquid. It tasted like a sweaty pig. Ah, ham stock! But I had no time left to make pea soup for dinner.
So we ordered from McDonald's.
Now some might suggest that I slow down and take the time to properly label these containers. But here’s the method to my madness.
Four o’clock in the afternoon rolls around. I haven’t got a clue what to make for dinner because I don’t want to cook dinner anyway. About this time the kids start bugging me: "What’s for dinner?" And they get one of three answers: "Food," "I don’t know," and "Your guess is as good as mine."
So I open up the freezer and search for one of my mystery bowls. And then I pray that whatever it is, it’s really gross and we get to order out for pizza.
But there’s more! I have to wait until most of the cereal in the house is gone so my husband doesn’t proclaim that Happy Pops are good enough for dinner.
I also have to work up a sweat and look like I’ve been run over by a truck when he walks in the door. This will cue him that I’ve had a bad day and ordering out is the least he can do for me...his poor wife...who selflessly brought five children into the world.
But I don’t tell him that. Knowing my husband it wouldn’t work. But sometimes he takes pity on me if I’ve put in a good effort.
So just before he gets home I tidy up—not something I am prone to do so it’s a pleasant shock when he walks in the door. This is how I work up a sweat. For that ‘truck ran me over’ look I just have the boys start yelling each other on cue ("Hey, yell louder and you’ll get ham and pineapple on that pizza!") so I can look wearily at my husband and ask him, "How was YOUR day?" as if mine was so horrible his couldn’t compare.
It takes a lot of effort to get out of cooking dinner, probably even more than it takes to cook it. But I don’t care. If Momma ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy. I mean, after all, that IS why they invented drive-thrus right? So I can drive through in my jammies and pick up dinner?
Copyright © Lisa Barker. Jelly MomTM is written by Lisa Barker, mother of five and author of "Just Because Your Kids Drive You Insane...Doesn't Mean You Are A Bad Parent!" and is syndicated through Parent To Parent. To publish Jelly Mom, buy the book or leave comments, please visit her website. Sign up for the complimentary Jelly MomTM weekly newsletter and receive a BONUS GIFT! Reprinted with permission.
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