There's No Such Thing As Easy Dinners

This is how dinner usually goes...

Kevin hasn’t wanted anything specific to eat for months now.  He still can’t smell due to Covid and thusly, his taste is off as well.  His appetite is almost non-existent.

I’ve mentioned before that I’ve been feeding him like one would a six-year-old

With that, if he mentions that something sounds good I get it because I just want him to eat at this point. AND, even though I’m doing this he still doesn’t eat very much. #thankscovid  He eats maybe only about half of what he would normally eat.

Tonight he decided sloppy joes sounded good.  Did I have the ingredients for sloppy joes?  Of course not. Is the end of the day and pouring down rain? YES

No matter, I will go to the gas station and spend twice what it should cost for the mix and most likely stale hamburger buns.  I was fairly confident that I had ground turkey or maybe even hamburger in the freezer.  Spoiler Alert: I did not.

The nearest grocery store is at least fifteen minutes away so that is not an option.  The gas station is my only choice, other than “Choose something else” to which isn’t an option for anyone whose ever had a spouse with a serious illness. Codependent, maybe but until you’re in it, you don’t know.

The gas station is usually always busy but it has a little bit of a creep factor in the evening or night. I’m certain a percentage of this is my imagination.   I found the sloppy joe mix easily and wasn’t surprised that they had it. There are campgrounds nearby so picnic items – albeit overpriced – are a safe bet.  I circled and circled for hamburger buns but didn’t see them. I finally asked the cashier who did the “umm, they’re Right There” thing.  I had walked past them twice, they were at eye level, and on the end cap.  Thanks, alphabet brain, appreciate that.

The cashier got animated when I set my things down.  “I JUST made these! They are so good and perfect for a night like tonight.”  So, that was a nice little bonding moment after the awkwardness.

I returned home and pulled apart the freezer.  I would have bet money that I had hamburger and an extra ground turkey.  I would have lost that money.  And in walks Kevin, home from work.  Muddy from head to toe and I suspect damp.  Now I really can’t say no.

I told him that we didn’t have hamburger or turkey and he says “Mom will have it.”  I replied, “Yes I know and will you call her?”  The logic in my head being I was trying to make dinner and could do other things while he called.  “Well, it would mean more to her if you called and asked.”

….

….

I know I’m not normal. I know I’m raised by wolves but why is that a thing?  Why does sentiment get attached to asking to borrow hamburger?  Why is that a thing.  This is right on par for how this is going and  should have seen it coming. I picked up my phone while muttering nonspecific displeasure.

Of course she had hamburger and she was happy that she had something we needed. I will admit that it’s usually the reverse.  “But it’s frozen” she says, concerned.  “Pretty sure I can figure that part out” I told her.

I walked over there while Kevin climbed in the shower and they already had the hamburger sitting on the table, waiting.  That IS one of the nice things – as in convenient and in sentiment – of living with your family.  We exchanged pleasantries and I’m heading back to the house with a “I have to figure out how to use this now” joke.

As I’m walking back to the house, I glanced at the package.  There was hand writing on it and for one panicked second, I thought I read Lamb.  Because that would 100% happen.  But no, it was:

Ham

Burger

Ham

Burger

 Written just like that.  It’s just one of those things that you know there’s a reason but it’s just best not to ask. 

 It was wrapped in a produce bag and covered in tin foil.  So, being thrifty, they had bought a big pack and broken it down.  The issue was the tin foil had become embedded while freezing.  Because WHY NOT.

 My impulsive brain thought “Just put in the microwave” while my logic brain is shouting NO.  I ran it under hot water for a minute or two then peeled/picked the tin foil out.  Because no good deed goes unpunished.

 After squinting at the microwave as it defrost the rest of the hamburger and waiting for disaster, I started to brown the hamburger.  Oh, wait: Remember when I bought a new microwave like two years ago?  Yeah, the button to open it is broken now.  When I bought it, there wasn’t one with a handle, just the push button to open.  I bought it reluctantly and yeah, now it takes two hands to open the microwave.  Perfect.

Then I remembered how much that I absolutely hate cooking hamburger now.  Hate it.  I’m not a vegetarian but I’m pretty close and I’m definitely vegetarian when it comes to cooking hamburger.  It’s just…no.  I mentioned it to Kevin, who specifically ASKED for hamburger and he shrugged and said “Then don’t cook it.”  Okay, Mr. Mixed Messages.

 Despite all of that *waving of my hands* it was a good dinner for a rainy and cold night.  Was it worth all of THAT? No but at least Kevin ate and that was the point. 

 It’s just a lot of work for a “simple and easy” dinner.  But there really seems to be no such thing as simple and easy when it comes to me cooking.