This has always been a challenge for me.
I love pizza. It always sounds like a good idea. But I also love to cook. So, I find myself staring into the eyes of two hungry children, a not so hungry husband and a sink full of dishes and arguing inside myself convincing myself over and over that there really is time to shop, defrost, prep, chop, bake, roast, broil, or slow cook…
Sometimes reason prevails…and I order the pizza. Other times my weakness for kitchen utensils takes over and I scramble to pull off something with what is on hand. Madly rummaging through the cabinets…making substitutions and chicken judgement calls.
And then there are the nights when I open a box of Mac and Cheese and become the absolute hero to the three and five year old staring back at me.