Macilent Frame

Dinner in Suburbia

Last night, my daughter and I shared a very simple salad of grape tomatoes, green peppers, and garlic and butter croutons drenched in Italian dressing and half a pot of Velveeta macaroni and cheese for dinner. My husband, who is either on the edge of or sitting right in a depression but refusing to admit it, declined my offer to cook him something more substantial and spent dinner time playing games on his cell phone. I’d guess that nights like that happen more often than not in homes across America these days, but it’s still unsettling to find them happening in my own.