By the time I got Jack home and in bed, I was exhausted myself. I had lots more work to do before I could turn in, though, so I had to rustle up something warm and satisfying. I had nowhere near enough energy to cook something. After a long time looking in the cupboard, I finally found the right meal.
Oatmeal! I used to think oatmeal was only for breakfast, and for old people. After college, though, I worked as a graduate assistant at Drury. My boss worked so hard every day, she only spent about 5 minutes eating lunch. I worried about her a lot (this was before I became a teacher and a speed eater). Starting at noon, I used to pop in her office every five or ten minutes and remind her that it was lunchtime. After a few reminders she would finally acquiesce. She would get up, walk across her office to the microwave, and make a bowl of oatmeal. This did not allay my worries, since oatmeal was clearly a breakfast meal for old people, and not sufficient to sustain a working adult.
She seemed to thrive on this thin fare, and I began to wonder if oatmeal might deserve another glance. Soon after, I began eating it, and loving it, on cold winter mornings. Bare cupboards gave me
the opportunity to break oatmeal out of its breakfast confines and invite it to the dinner table.
My oatmeal was a great dinner tonight. Plus, I got to eat while I worked.
