Don't cry over spilled milk. But feel free to cry when your freezer door accidentally is left open and everything within that freezer thaws and expands into what appears to be a puddle of mucous and vomit.
Yes, cry then.
I'm not sure what was worse about this recent experience: knowing that I easily was tossing over a hundred dollars worth of food into the trash, or knowing that some of that food was in the form of actual meals that I had prepared in advance for days when our schedules are too hectic to prepare a decent dinner.
In advance! Advanced planning!
This was a painful loss. Meal planning doesn't come naturally for me. I excel at arriving at 5:00 in the afternoon and being surprised -- yet again -- that it's nearly dinner, that I have children, and somehow I'm the one responsible for feeding them. For the past seven years I've been caught off by dinner on a somewhat regular basis. (Don't judge.)
So, at this moment, my freezer is entirely empty -- a clean slate, a fresh start, an invitation for half gallons of ice cream and probably a frozen pizza or two.
I'm going to rally, my friends. I'm going to harness this desire to be a better cook (something that always occurs in the fall, as if the cooler weather holds the power to trigger latent domestic abilities within me.) I'm going to try again and make meals in advance.
And when I do, I'm going to make sure that the freezer door is closed tightly.
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