RICH PERSON PROBLEMS

365 DAYS OF THANKSLIVING — DAY 110

You know you’re truly blessed when you’re standing in front of a fridge packed tighter than a suitcase on a budget airline, and your only thought is… “Meh.” That was supper tonight.

If you’ve followed this blog for a while, you know our Friday nights usually involve the high-octane romance of grocery shopping. But tonight, we traded the aisles for the couch because it’s NCAA March Madness time. We didn’t want to miss Miami battle Tennessee, or the Boilermakers take on Queens in round one.

Now, if you read last night’s post, you know how much we’re Miami RedHawk fans. Unfortunately, they got creamed. They made it to the big dance, sure, but they were basically told to sit down before the first song finished. Meanwhile, Purdue just railroaded Queens 104 to 71. Boiler Up, baby!

Anyway… while we were out-and-about in Katosota, we planned for our work-from-home lunch, but not for supper. While we were at Sam’s Club—where everything is sold in quantities meant for a small army—I suggested a take-and-bake "za-za" from Green Mill (on the go) for either meal. (And let’s be clear: Green Mill is the GOAT. Better ingredients, better pizza, and WAY better than Papa John’s. Don’t @ me.) Danielle thought it’d be better for lunch.

“Okay,” I said. “Then what’s for supper?” Crickets.

While wandering the freezer aisle at Sam's, I saw a frozen Zatarain’s chicken-pasta dish, and mentioned how tasty it looked. In my head, I was already eating a lovely dish of spicy blackened chicken fettuccine alfredo. I assumed I had communicated this, but apparently, I only shared my idea telepathically.

I mean, I thought women were born with the "Mind Reading" DLC pre-installed? Apparently, the subscription expired today because she didn’t catch the signal. Ladies, what’s up with that? Is the gift on backorder?

So when it came time for supper and I finally verbally shared my alfredo vision, I got “The Look.” Gents, you know it. The blank stare, the slightly curled lip—the universal facial expression for “That’s not happening.”

I tried to pivot. I suggested stir-fry, but we didn’t have the ingredients we prefer. I even drove to our local grocery store to see if they had the missing items. Nope. I returned home defeated. With a big sigh, I asked one more time what she wanted to do. “Let’s just make do,” she said.

She diced up some chicken, marinated it in some teriyaki sauce, grabbed the weird Asian broccoli from the freezer, and made a batch of rice. She tried her best, bless her heart, but the result was just… meh.

But here’s the thing: “Rich person problems” are still blessings. It’s a luxury to be bored with a house full of food. It means you have enough abundance that your biggest struggle is "uninspired taste buds."

I’ve said this before; we know what it’s like to have almost nothing in the house to eat. No meat, no veggies, no rice—nothing but a box of couscous that’s been sitting in the cupboard since Noah was building the ark. Compared to those days, I’ll take a "meh" teriyaki bowl any day of the week.

Today, I’m thankful for a house so full of food that we can make a mundane meal that feels just like "meh." Because, well… for those who have nothing, “meh” is better than that.

Thank you again, Father, for our daily bread. We are blessed enough to "make do" even when we don’t really want to.

What are you thankful for today?

P.S. -- Why do you think Ai make me look like Gov Tim Walz? It should apologize, don't ya think?