>It was a good day for cooking from scratch. I harvested and cleaned ingredients from the garden. Prepared a balanced meal that would taste great. Set the table, even made a fresh green salad.
No one came home.
Amigo was at camp, so he was excused. La Petite had to work, and her job hours are unpredictable. Husband usually gets home within a predictable range of time. I thought I’d wait until one or both of them turned up before I began actually cooking.
5:00 – Husband called, said he had to run but wanted to tell me he didn’t know when he’d be home because he had to go out with a crew to cover breaking news.
5:30 – I started cooking anyway. Maybe La Petite would arrive and be hungry. Who am I kidding – she’s always hungry!
5:40 – I opened a Mike’s Hard Lemonade, Pomegranate flavor.
5:45 – Meatballs finished. Set aside.
5:50 – Pasta looked done, started sauce.
6:00 – Ate a delicious dinner alone, in front of Jeopardy.
6:30 – La Petite came home, hot and sweaty from working, and (thankfully) hungry.
6:35 – Husband called to say, “Elvis has left the building!” But he wasn’t hungry; they’d been working at a venue with a free taco bar, and he’d grazed quite a bit.
6:40 – Put the rest of the food away in the refrigerator. Cleared dishes, ran dishwasher.
Everyone had an alibi – not just an excuse, but a real reason not to be home. I’m glad I’m not dependent on this kind of family approval to keep on cooking. It could be rather depressing. As it is, I felt somewhat put out that I’d taken the time to plan and cook a decent meal for no one. When school starts and I’m cooking simple thirty minute meals again, they’d better not complain.
