Here I am, at 11:30 on a Tuesday night, allegedly cooking taco meat and paying bills, but procrastinating the paying bills part, because spilling my guts on the blog is so much more rewarding in the short term. Plus the taco meat keeps interrupting me with its simmering and stirring needs.
In case you are wondering, yes, 11:30 p.m. is a little late for a taco Tuesday, even for us. But around these here parts, we have taco Wednesday, which normally, like any sane family, we would make on Wednesday, at a normal time, say around five. But the neighbors had a baby born six weeks early, and tomorrow is our night to take dinner in to them. And we have all this other stuff going on tomorrow night anyway, so we weren't even going to have tacos tomorrow night, but then, yeah, this story is getting complicated and boring, so I'll stop now. Suffice it to say that dinner will be delivered to our neighbors tomorrow, by us, as promised, at five pm so they can go to the hospital to see their baby after they eat. And the important thing is that baby boy is expected to be just fine.
I thought I had something else to say about dinners going in to people, but I have been thinking about it for a while now, and nothing very intelligent has come out. It was going to be something profound I think. What I really think is that I just do not want to pay this stack of bills that is sitting here beside me. I wish someone would come in and take care of them for me. If they did, I would gladly take them dinner.