Why it’s 5:30pm and I still have no idea what we’re having for dinner:

  • I honestly haven’t given it a single thought until just this moment when your sweaty little face popped over the couch to ask what we’re eating.
  • You’ve worn me out with your activities and pool time and lunch and sibling bickering and requests to go to a friend’s house and interminable pestering for Icee pops.  My brain went on strike an hour ago.
  • The kitchen has disappeared under a pile of trip stuff that hasn’t yet made it back to its proper place.
  • It’s been over 95 degrees for a week straight and the thought of heating anything makes me break out in a sweat.
  • After approximately 3,655 days of trying to figure out what the hell to feed you people I’m exhausted and have lost the will to heat, microwave, toast, simmer, panfry, or even warm up food.  It’s time to forage.

Motherhood, WTF? They can’t live on watermelon and corn alone.