Fridge Food

Turns out, a lot of the restaurants I frequent are fast food.  I was thinking fast food would mean "No drive-thrus."  But my version of the council made a judgment that if there was no waitress, it was fast food.  Restaurants that our are typical go-tos that now don't foot the bill are McAlister's, Jimmy John's, Qdoba, Panera, and this barbeque place called "Q". So when Sloan came downstairs after a morning of work yesterday and offered to take the whole family out to get BBQ, I died a little inside.  Which tells me I am one of the four most spoiled people on the planet.  The other three being the folks who live with me.  I went to the refrigerator to look at the "fridge food" I could eat for lunch. 

For me, eating "fridge food" is something for, well, I can't really type this without feeling horrible, but "fridge food" is for other people.  Not for me.  Because typically, what is in my fridge is the following--Dora yogurts, cheese sticks, a rotting onion, a fogotten bag of salad best sold by two weeks ago, leftovers from that time I attempted from scratch chicken cordon bleu (epic fail), and a baggie of turkey pepperoni.  Oh, and six containers of reduced fat Sour Cream, because apparently I'm incapable of going to the grocery store without buying sour cream.  It's no big shock I don't find that appetizing. 

Then it occurred to me that I was, in fact, the person who purchased said products that went into the fridge.  That as an adult, I could fill that fridge up with whatever I wanted, so long as it didn't contain High Fructose Corn Syrup.  That maybe if I bought yummy things to top that bag of salad, it wouldn't have turned into brown water.  (Briefly I thought about buying an actual head of lettuce and chopping it up.  Baby steps, folks.)

I know some of you people have known about this adulthood thing for awhile.  Adulthood doesn't come naturally to me.  I'm still flabergasted that I'm old enough to have two kids, much less to have been out of high school for over 15 years.  I mean, I still count  8 am as waking up at the butt crack of dawn. Last night I slept in a Care Bears Tshirt circa 1998.

So this morning, at the grocery store, I bought real adult food.  And for lunch, I made an adult salad.  I know my friend who is doing 7 who has actually reduced her intake to 7 foods will see this as extravagant.  I see this as my way of getting Pita Delite without having to drive to Greensboro.  So glad Gracie decided to toss in a few cans of sliced black olives by surprise.  And it'd be very anti-7 to waste them...