I generally don't think too much about a future meal unless said meal is at a restaurant. Once it's clear I'll be dining out, I immediately start searching for restaurants. Sometimes I'll look based on cuisine but usually, I let the choices wash over me until one jumps out. Once I've landed on the establishment, it's time to pull up its menu hours before the reservation so I can pretend to plan ahead.
I say pretend because despite perusing a menu in advance, I will undoubtedly have no idea what I want until I'm seated and staring at physical copy of a menu. Things feel different when you're in the actual restaurant. Somehow the food is not the same, even when it's exactly the same. That's why I kind of understand where one man was coming from when he texted his wife about dinner several hours before one might eat. It's the food for thought that counts.
Get your own dinner!
Amy Maurer Creel, who appropriately goes by @amymaurercreel on TikTok, was not ready to think about dinner when her husband texted about it one afternoon. In a brief but glorious TikTok, Amy explains that he pulled the trigger way too early on in the day. What next, putting on Christmas music the day after Halloween?
"What are we doing for dinner?" asked Amy's husband. It was the "we" that gave Amy pause because in her experience, she is the one who usually prepares dinner. Whenever I would use "we" in this fashion, my mother would always say, "We? Do you have worms?" I didn't and do not, but it always made me laugh!
One can never know the intricacies of a relationship that is not our own, but that doesn't stop me from wishing Amy didn't accept the lopsided dinner situation in her marriage. Why is she always the person who makes it? Perhaps her husband cleans up after, but that wasn't addressed in this TikTok.
When is it too soon to think about dinner? For Amy, it's 2:00 p.m. which is when her husband started putting out his food feelers. In text over the TikTok, Amy said she never thinks about her last supper before 7:00 p.m.
That actually gives me anxiety because the earliest she will even consider what is on the dinner agenda, is 7:00 p.m. which could mean preparation won't begin until 7:30 p.m. or possibly 8:00 p.m. It will most likely take at least 30 minutes to an hour to make dinner which means no one is eating before 8:30 p.m. My body would collapse into itself.
I haven't even considered dessert which could be an issue since eating sugar too close to bedtime can lead to a sleepless night. These are definitely things I didn't think of when I was younger, but now it's all I can see. It's fun becoming an ancient crone from the days of yore!
The comments section of Amy's TikTok were firmly divided between women whose husbands are just like hers, and men who felt compelled to insult her. The bulk of their lukewarm barbs were variations of, "I bet you're a treat to be married to."
It's wild to extrapolate from this single reasonable video that Amy is an insufferable shrew simply because she doesn't want to plan her day around her husband's appetite.
Amy's response is not cruel. She doesn't use her husband's name. The only things she's remarking on is his use of the word "we" when he doesn't pitch in, and the fact that he's already thinking about supper immediately after lunch.
My favorite social media trope was played out in the responses. Several men posited a theory as to why her husband was texting and operated as if that was true. More than one man chose to believe Amy's husband wanted to take her out to dinner. Ah yes, whenever I am making restaurant plans with someone they always ask me what we're doing for dinner and don't mention eating out at all.
All of these people, and to be honest they were all men, decided to ignore Amy's lived experience with her own spouse in favor of concocting a fantasy that makes her husband look better. Which is more likely, that Amy has done this with her husband before and knows why he's texting? Or, strangers on the internet figured out a secret plan that makes Amy look bad and her husband look good. My money is on Amy knowing her own partner.