What�s for dinner?
You see us in the grocery store all the time.� We�re the ones in a daze, pondering a question as old as time.� The query itself is fairly innocent, but has probably been the catalyst for more epic wars than any squabble over land, politics or religion in history.� No matter the answer, the wise inquirer should respond with, �Great � that�s my favorite!�� Any other response might send someone like us directly into battle mode, particularly if we�ve just fought a monster-truck for a parking space, survived an apple avalanche in the produce department, chipped ice off our eyelashes in the frozen-food section, stood behind a customer with 56 coupons, and hauled 17 bags into the house in our quest for dinner.
Long gone are the days when the hunter/gatherer cavemen took off for the hinterlands to search for game, then dragged wooly mammoth parts home for the cave ladies to whip up into a nice stew � which, by the way, never failed to bring rave reviews from the ravenous clan.� Rarely was a Neanderthal homemaker vexed by a recently upright-walking spouse or small, hairy child, whining, �Wooly Mammoth, AGAIN?� or �Jeez, I was hoping for brontosaurus tonight.�
Like me, you have probably spent countless hours on Pinterest; saving recipes you will never actually make, because you forget to write down the recipe, and in some stores there is no communication possible with the outside world.� Or, you prepare what you think is a new and exciting dish, only to discover that three members of your family do not like (insert any vegetable here), became vegan yesterday, or invited a last-minute, lactose intolerant guest.
Leftovers?� Surely, you jest.� I�m thinking that it might be time to park the grocery cart, and let the broccoli fall where it may; to let all the hunters and gatherers that aren�t out beating the bushes for mastodons, or willing to take their turn stirring the pot, simply take it or leave it.� My sister cave-dwellers had the right idea: go with what you have a lot of.� Anyone not on Team Wooly Mammoth goes hungry.� You get what you get and you don�t pitch a fit.
So should we eat out instead?� Though one would think that option might solve the problem, it simply leads to the second-most battle-worthy question:� �Where shall we eat dinner?�� Turns out, the invention of the wheel was not always a good thing, and in the interest of public safety, the restaurant issue is best addressed before the car leaves the driveway.
It�s a quandary that probably won�t be solved until we can someday just press a button and have our food magically appear � a concept that may be closer than we think.� Until then, you can look for me aimlessly wandering the produce department of the grocery store, with a stalk of celery, a banana, and no clue as to what�s for dinner.� See you there!
