Smith's Deli. Noodles. The Elevator. Bar Louie. Barrio. Gumby's.
We can't stop eating out. It's an epidemic in our household, and I just don't know how to curtail the issue.
Pizza? At least once a week.
Take out? Routine.
Sit down and eat and spend way too much? Every weekend.
Why? Because it is just so darn easy. And relaxing. And we don't have the time to cook.
Well maybe we have the time. We could certainly try to make the time. But it takes some prime time to prepare a meal, and when I finally get home after working and picking up the kiddo, the last thing I want to do is throw on an apron. And I'm hungry now. Like really, really hungry. N.O.W.
Brian insists that I keep granola bars in my bag at all times so I can take the edge off of my hunger as needed. Because I will turn into a super grouchy Gremlin as the night wears on, if dinner is postponed. If you are sitting with me in a traffic jam on I-71 past 6:30pm, you better hope that Mr. Quaker has a yummy chocolate chunk treat within arm's reach. Or I will shut down.
Which is a funny thing. Because we prepare nearly gourmet food for Mac daily. We have to take his lunch to school (daycare) each day, and I ensure all food groups are present in his home-made meals. Sometimes Brian and I will be in the kitchen together at 10pm for an hour pulling together the boy's meal for the next day. Food just for him. And let me tell you it is a lot of food. Mac eats more than the preschoolers in his building. The teacher's all laugh about it. He's a garbage disposal already, at the tender age of 15 months.
So would we save time by going to the grocery store once per week, planning out meals for each day, making them as soon as we get home—for all three of us to enjoy—and then using leftovers for Mac's lunch the next day? Quite possibly.
But it's not nearly as fun as grabbing some Jeni's ice cream after enjoying a meal together on Shoku's front patio.