-Cycle 2, Dinner 210-
3 (Wed) August 2011
Chili Cheese Dog Nachos
* * * *
with Wife and Dominic
Following my mother's surgery and discharge from the hospital, the main concern on everyone's mind is the extent to which my father will hamper her recovery. Every night, between 11:00 PM and midnight, like a pothead with the munchies, he gets an irresistible craving for a snack that can only be satisfied by some combination of meat and cheese and bread/tortilla. Although the fridge and freezer are packed with ready-made items for these occasions, he's entirely incapable of preparing anything for himself, even if the preparation involves a simple turn of the microwave dial. And so, the kitchen is my father's personal late-nite Jack-N-The-Box delivery service, with my mother as the only employee (when I'd lived at home before getting married, we alternated shifts). Given his character, he is most likely to assume that business hours have resumed now that she has returned home.
In an effort to alleviate the strain on my mother, at least for a day, at least for the first day of homecoming, I drove her home and put her to bed and set about making a pot of chili with hotdogs for my father (enough to take some home for our own dinner). I also prepared Mexican rice and set out some cheese and tortillas. For dinner, all he would have to do is spoon some still-warm chili and rice and cheese onto a plate and then, for his midnight snack a few hours later, reheat the chili in the microwave and use the tortillas for wraps.
However, having been several years since I had to serve the man directly, I overestimated the level of his competence. Reportedly, when my mother explained what he had to do with the food that I'd made, he replied that it would be too much of a hassle and declared his intention to go out for dinner. To my father, putting on his shoes and getting in the elevator and walking down the street to a restaurant and getting a table and ordering from a menu and paying and coming back is easier than spooning chili and rice and cheese onto a plate by himself at home.
My mother had to get out of bed after all. And despite my preparations, she still had to shred lettuce and bust out the jalapenos. Poor mom.