I Heard My Husband Say “What’s for Dinner?” and Felt Empty

Dear Delyara, I was already standing in front of the stove. I had the pan out. I was halfway into the evening’s invisible labor before the question was even asked. And when he said it — casually, harmlessly, like a person who was simply wondering about food — I felt this strange hollow feeling move through me. Because the truth is, “What’s for dinner?” is never only about dinner in this house. It means planning, deciding, defrosting, timing, making sure there’s enough, making sure nobody complains, making sure the kitchen returns to normal afterward, making sure the whole emotional weather of the house doesn’t collapse because everybody is tired and hungry at the same time. I answered him. Pasta. What I wanted to say was: I don’t know what I’m making for dinner because I’m too busy becoming it.