Monday, November 24, 2014

Some Disassembly Required

Over the past week or so, I attended two parties.  For me, that is about as crazy as my social life gets.  Strangely enough, both hosts served lasagna for dinner.  In the past, I would be thrilled.  The cooks involved both make fantastic lasagna - everything from scratch, nothing jarred or processed.  Now, not so much.  You see, it was not just any lasagna, it was meat lasagna.

There were no other choices for meals at either party, so I a choice to make.  I could snack on salad and bread and skip the meal, leaving me hungry and cranky.  I could eat the lasagna, leaving me feeling guilty and uncomfortable.  I could ask for something else to eat, which I never really considered because that would be just plain rude.

My choice?  I ate the lasagna, sort of.  Yes, I quietly and subtly, took the layers apart and removed as much of the meat as possible.  People were talking and eating so no one seemed to notice my little pasta surgery.  I did not waste those meatballs; I gave my extra to Matt and Sarah who were more than happy to scoop up my rejects.  I am sure I looked ridiculous.  I am sure my plate looked like some kind of Italian tragedy.  I don't know if I made the best choice but I made the best decision I could at the time, both times, and I am comfortable with that.

Any ideas of another option?

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