Good old Leftovers

It's the first Friday night of the new school year.  Normally, by the time I hit the fifth day of the fall semester my brain is aching from the lack of use during the long three month summer break. Often my head feels like I drank one too many glasses of white wine the night before.  My eyes are burning, head hurting and my body exhausted from lack of daily nap.  School interferes with the most sacred hour of the day, nap time.  Now it is late afternoon on Friday.  I know that my husband's inner dinner bell will be calling for me to serve him something to eat.  In our home, I don't let him cook; I don't like his cooking.  I mostly don't let him hang around in the kitchen; I don't like his interference.  The trade-off is that I serve him food.  After twenty-five years, he might have become incapable of making his own.  Today while gazing into the refrigerator I am thankful for all the leftover containers.  Whenever I join the small portions of previous meals together an innovative and tasty dinner is born.  Tonight I find oil fried falafel we can eat with yogurt and cilantro, four pieces of corn on the cob, a cucumber salad, red onions, green peppers and a vinegar sour cream sauce.  In the refrigerator door Brian finds a small ziplock full of chicken from the night before.  Ten minutes later, Brian and I are sitting around the kitchen table relaxing and enjoying the leftovers of the week.  Three leftover pieces of potato in a bowl are not garbage; they are a starchy base for a quick meal the day after.  On this particular day after, I am happy to simply sit in a chair and relax with my amber friend named Guinness.