Pre-planning not always necessary for successful dining




Colleen Roy / The B.C. Catholic

I don’t much like 5 o’clock.

For me, 5 o’clock can be the hour of hunger and shame.

Some days I sit down on the couch to look over a math test with someone, or to read a story to a little person, and suddenly somebody interrupts to ask, “Mom, what’s for dinner?”

“What?!” I ask myself silently, “How can it possibly be past five again? Did I thaw any meat? No. Uhhhhhh . . . .” And then I go brain dead for 10 minutes.

Sometimes I’m saved when my kind husband pops his head around the corner and, without insinuation, asks, “Do you have anything in mind for dinner?”

When he sees my blank stare, he heads into the kitchen and starts up something simple, like scrambled eggs.

“There’s no shame in eggs for dinner,” I tell myself, “At least it’s protein.”

But on those days Scott isn’t there to save the meal, I find myself sinking into the couch as six predators slowly stalk closer and closer with accusation in their eyes.

Elijah: “What’s for dinner? I’m hungry.”

Me: Blank stare.

Elijah: “Can I make dinner? I can make pasta.”

Me: “There’s no thawed meat.”

Nicolas: “I can bake bread.”

Me: “What?!”

Tom, with one chubby little finger pointing up to the ceiling: “I knew! We cun haaave Ehmo wahfles!”

Eli: “Can we have ham? Do we have any ham?”

Tom: “I knooooo! We cun haaav Ehmo wahfles!”

Eli: “Yeah, we could have waffles.”

Isaac: “Hey Tommy, I got you that Elmo waffle maker from the church garage sale. Remember?”

Tom: “Oooohhhh! Thangk you, Isee!” (Exeunt Thomas)

Madalen: “Yay! We’re having waffles! I can use the maple syrup from my Christmas stocking!”

Nicolas: “You’re not going to use wheat flour, are you?”

Me: “For Pete’s sake, everyone. We’re not having waffles for dinner.”

Enter Thomas, holding bright yellow waffle maker: “Look Mama! It’s my Ehmo wahfle maka!”

I grab Elmo waffle maker and stand up. “We’re not having waffles for dinner. As if.”

My brain is still on empty, so without the knowledge of my will, I make my way into the kitchen, but instead of returning the Elmo waffle maker into the cupboard, I plug it into the wall.

Tom: “Ohhhhh, can I have honeee on my Ehmo wahfles?”

Me: “We’re not having waffles, already!” I get out the white flour.

I then realize that I have neither butter, nor syrup. “Can I make syrup from brown sugar and bacon drippings?” And thus, 5 o’clock becomes the hour of hunger and shame.

I do have days of success, when I think ahead or act quickly enough so everyone thinks I made dinner on purpose. But we don’t buy much processed or prepared food, and we don’t have a microwave, so thawing stuff and thinking ahead are a problem when I spend a great portion of my time at the table homeschooling.

I inevitably end up thinking about taking a roast out to thaw, but always on a Wednesday night. It’s always Wednesday night. BUT, that would mean that we’d eat the roast on a Thursday, and the leftovers would be waiting on the Friday. Roast on a Friday? I think not. We’re Catholics, you know. So, the roast stays in the freezer and we have scrambled eggs instead.

A few times I’ve made a month’s worth of meals at a time to put in the freezer. We refer to those days as “the days of plenty”. It’s hard to change, you know?

I take comfort in this coming Sunday’s readings, “Not many of you were wise by human standards.”

God chose the foolish, the weak, the lowly to be his, the reading says. In fact, it would be nearly impossible to receive any of the blessings from the Gospel’s Beatitudes if we were not somehow convinced of our own weakness. It is the meek and poor in spirit who receive the kingdom. It is that weakness that is transformed when it is offered to God in humility.

Any worthy success is through the power and inspiration of God, and, if we are humble of heart, any failures are opportunities to see our great need.

We bring to His altar our simple offering, and even our smallest gifts, when offered to him in love and for love, can be received and transformed into his gift to us. Yes, even the Ehmo wahfles can be transformed into a feast. In short, my hour of hunger and shame becomes his hour of grace and plenty.