SOL 12: Victory

I pull in the driveway… it’s 5:15. Another long day. Shift… teacher to mother. Go.

I walk up the stairs and the words reach me before my school bag can reach the chair.

“What’s for dinner?”

I hate those words. I hate them now. I hated them yesterday. I will hate them tomorrow.

Think. Quick. I have ground beef. I have peppers and onions. And I’m almost certain I have a can of diced tomatoes!

“Goulash,” I call out with victory emanating from every one of my pores! They all love it. They will eat lots of it. There will be leftovers for all the half days this week. Victory is MINE!

I set to work… water on the stove. Onions chopped. Peppers chopped. Saute the peppers and onions. Add the beef. Add the tomatoes. Aaah… how I love this recipe. Toss the pasta in. Cook it up, dump it into my largest stock pot. I can see the end.

I pull out four bowls. Heaping spoonful #1. Heaping spoonful #2. Heaping spoonful #3.
I stop. I look at bowl #4. NO… what have I done? I feel an overwhelming sense of defeat. How could I have forgotten? Victory is not mine. Well, victory is still theirs… just not mine.

I turn. Open the cupboard. Put the bowl back on the shelf. I make my way to the pantry and pull out a can of tuna. I start to twist the can opener.

“What are you doing?” they ask.

“Making my dinner,” I answer.

You see, I gave up pasta and bread products for Lent.

16 thoughts on “SOL 12: Victory”

  4. Oh no! I, too, hate the dinner moment, but I laughed out loud when you realized you have given up pasta and bread for Lent. Your description of the cooking victory is spot on, which makes the sudden realization that much harder. At least you’ll have leftovers… for them.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  6. You had me at “Shift… teacher to mother. Go.” I wanted to scream at “What’s for dinner?” And I completely related to the on the spot dinner plan. Goulash is never a go at my house; you’re pretty lucky! Good luck with the Lenten promise . . . not eating pasta and bread?!!! What a commitment.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

  7. One of the definite upsides to empty nest is that the only one to ask about dinner is my husband on occasion. He’s come to realize that’s essentially a rhetorical question anymore–or at least I interpret it that way! lol Nice job with the pacing in this piece. I like how you began with short sentences. They conveyed both the fatigue and then, the sense of ” ready, set, go!” (or maybe more aptly, “Ready or not!” Great slice!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  9. You had me at GO! It does often seem like I cannot set my bag down before the questions/requests start flying at me. I know in that moment, you may not have wanted to thank Jesus for his sacrifice, but that is the point of the abstaining, and I am so glad you shared your experience from this perspective. In this slice, not only did you give up pasta and bread, you gave up additional time to make a different dinner and provided a model for your family.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  11. As I read the part where you were filling the bowls, my heart was racing a bit. I was afraid you were going to have to start all over because you had forgotten an ingredient….
    Very well written! I admire your talent!
    Keith

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

Leave a comment