Last week my husband took a few vacation days. He took his dad and our daughter to see the St. Louis Cardinals play the Tampa Bay Rays. The men rooted for the Cardinals and my daughter for the Rays.

The Rays won and that must have let the air out of his sails because the rest of his time on vacation required only two things: a recliner and remote. (He didn’t have any other plans actually.)

My part in the vacation was I didn’t have to cook. It came about accidentally when I got sick. After having subs twice, pizza twice, and burgers once, I thawed out some chicken.

He decided it would not thaw soon enough and when he went to buy groceries he picked up a bucket of fried chicken from the grocery store. He got sides of mashed potatoes, gravy, cheesy potatoes, and squash. (The last item was for me.)

Usually he brings home macaroni and cheese to go with the potatoes.

Yeah, I married a meat and potatoes man.

Anyway, after putting the groceries away I filled my plate.

After one bite I thought, “This tastes like school lunch.”

It is amazing what we put up with for convenience. The next night I fried up the fully thawed chicken. I enjoyed mine much better.

We ate leftovers last night and I learned the secret to getting your college kids to cook a meal for you…serve chicken three nights in a row and tell them you are not cooking until the leftovers are gone.

He volunteered to cook tonight.

I’ll take fresh food over fast food any day.

My fried Chicken.