The Coronacation Diaries, Episode 11

Cheez-Its. It's What's for Dinner.

It's not that we're out of food.

It's that we just no longer care.

We have apples and pears in the fridge; there are cans of soup and chili in the pantry (all beans no meat and all meat no beans); there is pasta and rice in the cupboard, and a bag of chicken nuggets in the freezer that no one will eat. Yesterday, I made beer brats and mushroom soup/rice. Today, I made a lasagna, kinda. The kids didn't touch either meal. They were already full, from eating lunch at 4.

I tried valiantly, the first few days, to enforce an eating schedule that made sense. But, snacks.
I tried valiantly, the first few days, to serve meals that were homemade, nutritious, and balanced.

But it is the Coronapocalypse, and we all have slowly realized that we might never leave the house again. We've already stopped brushing our hair. I haven't put on eye-liner in a week. It doesn't matter. No one will see us, and if they do, it will be from at least two yards away. A century from now, they will find us, ashen like the corpses at Pompeii, bloated Weeble bodies buried under a mountain of empty wine bottles and toilet paper rolls.

Tomorrow, I will probably have to make a run to the grocery store. Don't worry; we're not out of food or toilet paper. But we are out of wine, vodka, bourbon, and decent beer. This is a grocery emergency if I've ever seen one. I still won't put on eye-liner or brush my hair, but I might put on mascara and a hat. And while I'm there, wandering the empty aisles and actively not touching my face, I'll search fruitlessly for foods that my family might someday decide to eat, once the Cheez-Its are gone.

Our Household Food Pyramid