ONE MORE TIME

“What’s for dinner?” my husband Steven called from the other room.

I looked at my watch and realized it was already six pm. That may seem early to some but for Steven it was way past dinnertime.

Lucky for me tonight’s dinner was going to be fast and easy.

“Leftovers!” I called back.

I didn’t have to hear the groan to know what was happening in the other room.

“Leftover what?” Steven asked as he walked into the kitchen.

I opened the refrigerator and pulled out the plastic covered bowls and plates. “Let’s see, so far we have pot roast and pasta.”

I opened up another container but when I couldn’t decide what it had been I tossed it in the trash and looked over at Steven. “I guess that one’s off tonight’s menu.”

Opening up the crisper drawer, I pulled out a bag of ready-made salad and grabbed a bottle of dressing from the refrigerator door.

Steven leaned against the counter watching me fill his plate before putting it in the microwave.

“Dinner in five minutes!” I cried as I brushed my hands together and went to gather the salad fixings.

Steven didn’t look thrilled as I handed him his bowl of salad and sprinkled some pre-cut cheese on top.

“There you go!” I smiled as I closed the cheese container and popped it back in the refrigerator.

I loved leftover night. Steven, on the other hand, wasn’t a big fan.

“Didn’t we already have pot roast?” he asked holding his salad plate.

Thinking he didn’t understand the concept of leftovers I thought I’d explain. “You loved it the other night.”

“Sure. I even loved it when you served it for lunch the next day. But when does it stop?”

“When it’s finished.” I explained as the microwave beeped and I handed him his dinner plate in his empty hand. “It was a really big roast.”

“Don’t we have anything else we can eat?” Steven put his plates down on the counter and went to look in the cabinets. “Maybe something new?”

“We can’t just throw the rest away and start on something new!” He might as well have asked me to take dollar bills and make paper airplanes out of them and sail them out the window.

I came from a big family that didn’t waste food. So the thought of throwing good food away was unthinkable.

I began filled my own plate and popped it in the microwave.

“Don’t we have anything else you can make?” Steven repeated as he opened the refrigerator and freezer doors, hoping for a miracle dish to appear.

That’s when I spotted the fifteen pound turkey in the freezer. “Oh, wow! I forgot about that! Can you pull that out?” I took his plates from the counter and carried them into the dining room. “I’ll make that for next weeks dinners!” I called over my shoulder.