Potluck

Today I realized that my plan for my novel sucks. And that I am not actually a good writer. Or even a writer at all. I haven’t written fiction since eleventh grade. I have no idea what I’m doing here.

I think that to get over my writer’s block, I need to stop over thinking what to write about and just write. Which leads me to the excruciatingly boring topic of: what I’m doing tonight. And that is: boiling macaroni noodles. For a white trash dinner we’ll wolf down a few minutes before darting out the door to the (dreaded) Family Night at the YMCA.

My kids go to the YMCA after-school program on their elementary school’s campus. Since the parents of the kids who go there work outside the home, for the most part, and the Family Night dinner fare is potluck, one can expect to choose his dinner from a couple tables covered with: buckets from KFC, bags from McDonald’s, plastic containers from Boston Market, trays of cookies from Safeway, and $5 Hot & Ready pizzas from Little Caesar’s. All of it cold. Anything appetizing already devoured by the time you reach the table. Expect to make a plate of congealed Kraft Macaroni and Cheese scooped out of an aluminum tin with a side of Doritos crumbs.

The first couple of times I attended Family Night, I went out of my way to bring something that wasn’t from a drive-through. Because really, who brings fast food to a potluck? I had never heard of such a thing. Then I started going out of my way to be out of town on Family Night. Then I just learned to lower my standards. Tonight I swung by Safeway and grabbed two bags of chips and a box of bakery cookies. A new low. Granted, they were the good kind of cookies. The really big ones with M&Ms in them. (I also grabbed a 12-pack of Newcastle, because I will need a few to erase the pain of Family Night.) But chips and cookies … store-bought cookies. Trans-fat laden chips. Hardly a dinner they make.

Which leads us back to the macaroni I am boiling. I plan to feed the kids (and maybe myself) before we go, so we can just hit the dessert table and avoid the whole, “OMG, someone just grabbed the last cold cheeseburger from that McDonald’s bag and now I have to eat a spoonful of clumpy fried rice with a side of – what is that?”

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One response to “Potluck

  1. Oh, that’s too funny. But really, what do they expect?