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Whatever Happened to Dinner?

The first time my husband and I met, he told me about his dinner routine, or his lack of one. His refrigerator had been dead for months, and he had slipped into the custom of eating big breakfasts and late lunches and skipping the day's last meal. Eating dinner for him meant scarfing down a box of Fig Newtons sometime after sundown.


I, on the other hand, starved myself during the day and gorged at night. I looked forward to dinner, viewed it as the reward for my daily labor.


He'll change, I thought. We'll have evening meals, nothing elaborate, but plates full of something warm and filling, food to elicit closeness and talk.


I was wrong.

Whatever Happened to Dinner? (636 KB)

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