The two worse phrases known to women everywhere. What’s for lunch? What are we having for dinner? How is one person supposed to decide what to serve others? This relationship between food, dinner, lunch and a woman is so very complicated. Why can’t it be easy? Ideally a seven day menu placed so perfectly on a while board for all to see is the magical perfection that just does not exist. If it were that easy women everywhere would be doing it but we don’t – we struggle and then when that phrase blurts itself out of a little human’s mouth, or a big human, we want to gag it with a hot dog. Wow, was this a rant? Sorry I was just trying to think of what to serve for dinner.
Tara Truly 