Last night my mother-in-law (who I love) wanted to buy us dinner as a ‘thank you’ for her current visit with us. This led to the usual circular rounds of “What do you want?” and “Where should we order dinner?” We were ordering in since COVID-19/Omicron continues to rage in North Carolina. Now mind you, at 89, a lengthy attention span and the ability to solve via decision-making are no longer my M-I-L’s (who I love) strong suits, so my wife and I discussed alternatives sotto voce and my economy recommendation was turned down since it would result in M-I-L ordering her usual cheeseburger. An Italian option was offered up but discounted as potentially more expensive than would be appropriate. At this point I withdrew, allowing the water-treading to continue without me while maintaining some degree of my little remaining sanity.
For the next 75 minutes a back-and-forth discussion of alternatives was bandied about between M-I-L and wife ending in a stalemate. Over the course of that hour and 15 minutes the Italian option (I’m pretty sure my wife wanted some Pollo Rosa Maria) continued to be mentioned by my well-meaning soulmate alas, there was still no resolution even though M-I-L began consulting her iPad bringing up even more options that had never been on the table from the get-go. Avoidance of the inevitable cheeseburger was a constant under current.
Seeing the conversation becoming something like eternally concentric rings off Hell, I jumped in and asked “OK, so do you want Italian or American food?”
“American” was the somewhat unsure answer. Since my budget-friendly and varied-menu was again deemed unacceptable since a cheeseburger was all M-I-L would order from there, I recommended a local gastropub which was agreed upon. I had fish and chips, Mrs. B had a steak salad (overcooked steak), and M-I-L (who I love) ordered…
…a cheeseburger.
The tab was $72.50 including a tip for the delivery driver, about $40 more than the same would have been at my original suggestion. Economy and avoidance of the dreaded cheeseburger were denied and that’s 75 minutes of my dwindling life that I’ll never see again.
Brain Particles 