crap for dinner

I'm 42 and a mother of three, and I know that it is my responsibility to teach my children good eating habits and provide ample nutrition to nurture their growing bodies and minds. No excuses.

Which is why I'm now sipping a gin and tonic trying to put this evening's family meal behind me. I have fish and chicken in the freezer, salads in the fridge drawer; a rainbow of fresh fruit spilling over my hanging rotter I MEAN basket. Even stopped at the grocery store on the way home and bought fresh ingredients for a chicken caesar salad. But then, inexplicably, when I got home, I started to scrounge all food storage areas in the house for crap.

Found a frozen cheese pizza for the kids, which isn't awful. But then I unearthed a box of TGI Friday's frozen jalapeno poppers. Mmmmm. Still unable to control my urge to avoid all things natural and of this earth, they go in the oven with the pizza. 

Now, we all know jalapeno poppers are an appetizer, not a main dish. So I need to come up with something else. So I look through the cabinets... eureka.

Sometimes when I feel the financial pinch, I stock up on ramen noodles because I know that, if all else fails, there's something to put in our bellies that only cost $.25. Horrific, I know. But there they were.

Making it even more tempting was the memory of a roommate I once had who showed me the delicious, artery-clogging trick of draining the water from the cooking ramen noodles, then adding some butter, sour cream, and paremsan cheese along with the little packet of MSG-laden mystery seasoning.

I think...I'm gonna do it.

So after Larry and I eat our mediocre jalapeno poppers (they are never as good as they are at the restaurant), I prepare my second course of gooey ramen noodles. I eat every last bite...and automatically feel regret. What was I thinking? Sometimes the idea of the crappy food is just so tempting; but then you have that rumbly feeling in your tummy that reminds you that IT'S CRAP.

But to make matters even worse, after his poppers, Larry decides to eat a peach.

Whaaaa? A peach? Where's the solidarity? I think that when one partner commits to a 100% crap meal, the other partner is obligated to follow suit.

The last straw...when I say "ugh, I don't feel so good..." he says, "we'll go to the gym tomorrow." Gah. Grounds for divorce.