It’s 4:58pm. The kids are melting, the dog is demanding a walk like he pays the mortgage, and your brain is doing that fun thing where it forgets every single food that has ever existed.
And then someone asks, “What’s for dinner?” like you didn’t already sacrifice your will to live sometime around 2:13pm.
Welcome to WTF’s for Dinner Wednesday, where we stop pretending dinner needs to be an art project and start treating it like what it is: a daily logistical hostage situation.
Let me guess: it’s chaos o’clock
Here’s what dinner time looks like in my house on a “normal” day:
- One kid is starving but also “not hungry” and also mad at the color of the plate.
- Someone has a last-minute practice / event / “I forgot to tell you” situation.
- I’m standing in front of the fridge like it’s going to speak to me, and all I hear is the hum of my own resentment.
- The pantry contains seventeen half-empty bags of snacks and exactly zero actual plans.
And somehow, society still expects a balanced meal with vibes. No. I’m tired. We’re feeding people. That’s the bar.
This is the part where people tell you to “just meal prep” and “make it a priority.” I would love to, Sharon, but my priority is getting everyone through the day without anyone crying in a closet (including me).
The Dinner Framework: Stop deciding from scratch every damn day
The biggest dinner problem isn’t cooking. It’s decision fatigue. Every day you’re reinventing dinner like you’re on some unhinged Food Network show called Who Wants to Be Slightly Less Overwhelmed?
So here’s the framework I use when I’m trying to keep my life from sliding off the counter:
Pick a “Dinner Lane” first. Not a recipe. Not a fantasy. A lane. Then you fill it in with whatever you’ve got.
Step 1: Choose one of 5 Dinner Lanes
- Protein + Bag + Sauce (aka “Adult lunchables, but hot”)
- Tacos / Bowls (everything becomes a taco if you believe in yourself)
- Pasta-ish (real pasta, tortellini, ravioli, or “whatever noodles are left”)
- Sheet Pan (throw it on a pan, let the oven do the parenting)
- Breakfast for Dinner (the elite emergency option)
When 5pm hits, you are NOT allowed to ask “what should we make?” You ask: Which lane am I in?
Step 2: Use the 3-Part Plate (so you don’t overthink it)
Every dinner can be:
- A thing with protein (chicken, eggs, beans, tofu, ground meat, rotisserie chicken… whatever)
- A thing that fills (rice, pasta, tortillas, potatoes, bread, quinoa, frozen fries—yes fries count)
- A “green-ish” thing (salad kit, frozen broccoli, cucumber slices, peas, a bag of steamable veg… we’re not auditioning for a farm-to-table restaurant)
If you hit two out of three, you’re still winning. If all you hit is “fed,” you’re winning too. This is not the Olympics.
Step 3: Keep 10 “Default Dinners” on a sticky note
Not in your head. Your head is a cursed place at 5pm.
Write down 10 dinners your people will actually eat (or at least not riot over). Then rotate them. Same stuff, different day. It’s fine. Nobody is grading you.
Step 4: Make the pantry/freezer do more of the heavy lifting
Here are the “save my ass” staples that make the framework work:
- Tortillas (flour or corn)
- Rice (microwave packs count, don’t be a hero)
- Pasta + one jar sauce
- Frozen veggies (broccoli, peas, stir-fry mix)
- Frozen chicken nuggets or tenders (judge me if you want; my kids are alive)
- Beans (black, pinto, chickpeas)
- Eggs
- Rotisserie chicken (the patron saint of tired parents)
- Salad kits (because chopping lettuce is a scam)
- Two sauces you love (salsa, teriyaki, pesto, BBQ, whatever)
When you have these around, “lane choosing” becomes stupid-easy. That’s the goal.
Go-to options for each Dinner Lane (aka: please just tell me what to make)
Here are a few that work when your brain is fried and someone is yelling your name from another room:
1) Protein + Bag + Sauce
- Rotisserie chicken + salad kit + rolls (done, goodbye)
- Frozen meatballs + microwave rice + steamable broccoli (add teriyaki or BBQ)
- Chicken nuggets + frozen fries + cucumber slices (a classic, no notes)
2) Tacos / Bowls
- Ground meat tacos with salsa + shredded cheese + bagged slaw
- Bean and cheese quesadillas + whatever fruit is still edible
- Rice bowls: rice + rotisserie chicken + frozen corn + salsa
3) Pasta-ish
- Tortellini + pesto + peas (stir them in, pretend it was planned)
- Spaghetti + jar sauce + “sprinkle cheese and call it culture”
- Mac and cheese + broccoli (yes, from frozen, yes it counts)
4) Sheet Pan
- Sausage + peppers/onions (or frozen pepper strips) + a bag of potatoes
- Chicken thighs + baby carrots + whatever seasoning you can find with one hand
- Salmon + frozen green beans + rice (if you’re feeling fancy, but like… normal fancy)
5) Breakfast for Dinner
- Scrambled eggs + toast + fruit
- Pancakes + sausage (frozen pancakes are allowed; I will defend you)
- Breakfast burritos: eggs + cheese + whatever leftovers aren’t scary
Also: if you partake in a little marijuana and suddenly everything tastes better and you’re calmer—cool. Use that power for good. Like not screaming because someone wants ketchup for their waffles. Again.
If you’re drowning, start here
- Pick a lane: tacos, pasta, sheet pan, protein+bag+sauce, or breakfast.
- Choose the protein: eggs, rotisserie chicken, beans, ground meat, tofu—anything.
- Add a filler: rice, tortillas, pasta, potatoes, bread.
- Add a green-ish thing: salad kit or frozen veg.
- Use one sauce/seasoning: salsa, pesto, teriyaki, BBQ, jar sauce.
- Set a timer: 20 minutes. When it goes off, we eat something, even if it’s “snack dinner.”
You do not need a new personality. You need a system that works when you’re tired and everyone is loud.
Soft CTA (because I’m not here to bully you into meal planning)
If this framework just lowered your blood pressure by even 2%, I’ve got you.
I keep my meal plans and dinner shortcuts in my Stan Store so you don’t have to reinvent the wheel every Wednesday (or every damn day). No pressure, no “clean eating” preaching, just realistic plans for real households with real chaos.
Grab what you need (or just peek): https://stan.store/ThePottyMouthPanda
Now go feed your people. And if dinner is cereal? Congrats. That’s still dinner.
The Potty Mouth Panda 