Fuck It Friday: Dinner Can Be Ugly and Still Count (Dec 19, 2025)

Some of you are out here trying to “eat better” like you’re not also surviving December with a brain that’s basically a buffering wheel.

So here’s your Fuck It Friday reminder: dinner can be ugly and still count. If it fed your kids (or just you) and nobody cried more than once, congratulations — you nailed it.

Let’s be real: you’re not lazy, you’re fried

It’s Friday, December 19th. The calendar is feral. The school emails are multiplying like gremlins. Somebody needs a “special snack” for a thing you never heard of, and your kid is suddenly emotionally attached to wearing shorts in winter.

Meanwhile you’re standing in front of the fridge like it personally betrayed you.

And then your brain does that cute little spiral:

• “We should cook more.”
• “We should eat less junk.”
• “We should be more organized.”
• “We should probably become a different person entirely.”

No. Stop. Sit down. Drink some water. Take a bite of something that came from a bag. You don’t need a glow-up. You need food with minimal bullshit.

Relatable chaos: the dinner stage show nobody asked for

Here’s how dinner goes in my house when I’m at the end of my rope:

I open the fridge. I see leftovers that look like a science project. I close the fridge.

I open the pantry. I see thirteen kinds of pasta and zero will to live. I close the pantry.

I consider ordering takeout, remember the cost, and whisper “hell no” like I’m in a horror movie.

Then someone yells, “I’M STARVING,” like they haven’t eaten nine times today.

So I pull off what I call a low-effort dinner pivot. It’s not a recipe. It’s not a lifestyle. It’s a survival maneuver.

The framework: The “Good Enough Plate” (a.k.a. Stop Making Dinner a Damn TED Talk)

If you’re cooked, use this. It’s a stupid-simple formula that keeps you from reinventing the wheel while everyone gets hungrier and louder.

Pick 1 from each category. That’s it. That’s dinner.

• Protein-ish: rotisserie chicken, eggs, deli turkey, frozen meatballs, canned tuna, beans, tofu, yogurt
• Carb that calms people down: bread, tortillas, rice, pasta, frozen waffles, potatoes, crackers
• Produce (fresh, frozen, or “close enough”): baby carrots, frozen broccoli, bag salad, apples, salsa, canned corn, pickles (yes, pickles)
• Sauce / flavor cheat: jarred pesto, marinara, ranch, hummus, BBQ sauce, soy sauce, salsa, shredded cheese

Now let’s make it even easier: the goal is assemble, not “create.” If you used a microwave, a toaster, or a sheet pan, you are doing great.

Lowest-effort dinner combos that don’t suck:

• Rotisserie chicken + bag salad + bread: Put it on the table and call it “family-style.” Fancy.
• Frozen meatballs + jar sauce + microwave rice: Add steam-in-bag veggies if you’re feeling ambitious.
• Breakfast for dinner: Scrambled eggs + toast + fruit. Kids act like it’s a holiday.
• Quesadillas: Tortillas + cheese + whatever protein you can find. Serve with salsa or sour cream. Done.
• “Snack plate” dinner: Crackers, cheese, deli meat, fruit, cucumbers, hummus. Call it charcuterie if you want to feel powerful.
• Ramen glow-up: Instant noodles + frozen edamame or leftover chicken + a handful of spinach. Optional egg if you can be bothered.
• Baked potatoes: Microwave them. Top with cheese/beans/broccoli/leftover chili. People love a potato vessel.
• Freezer nuggets + frozen veg + dip: I’m not above it, and neither should you be.

Permission slips you may need (take one, take five):

• You’re allowed to repeat meals. Nobody’s grading you.
• You’re allowed to serve separate components instead of “a meal.”
• You’re allowed to use paper plates when the sink is giving you dirty looks.
• You’re allowed to skip the vegetable tonight and try again tomorrow. The world will keep spinning.
• You’re allowed to feed yourself too. Not just the tiny loud people.

Realistic shortcuts that actually help:

• Double one easy thing: If you make pasta, make extra. Future you deserves rights.
• Anchor foods: Keep 5 “always works” dinners in rotation. Variety is overrated when you’re exhausted.
• Emergency dinner shelf: A dedicated stash: pasta, sauce, tuna, boxed mac, beans, instant rice, frozen veg. Touch it only when needed like a break-glass situation.
• Use the damn freezer: Frozen veggies aren’t “sad.” They’re practical. So are frozen meatballs and pre-cooked chicken strips.
• Stop trying to win dinner: The win is feeding people with minimal drama. That’s it. That’s the trophy.

If you’re drowning, start here

• Pick one: eggs, rotisserie chicken, or frozen meatballs.
• Pick one: tortillas, rice, or bread.
• Add one: bag salad, baby carrots, or frozen broccoli.
• Add one sauce: salsa, ranch, marinara, or hummus.
• Put it on the table. Sit down. Eat something. Breathe.

Soft CTA (because you don’t need more pressure, you need fewer decisions)

If this kind of “good enough” energy helps, I’ve got meal plans that are built for real life — the kind where you’re tired, the kids are loud, and nobody wants a complicated recipe with seventeen steps.

No pressure, but if you want the shortcut, you can grab them here: https://stan.store/ThePottyMouthPanda

Now go feed everybody something. Ugly dinner still counts. I will die on this hill.