My college son—and his laundry—will be resuming residence under our roof for two months, starting sometime this weekend. “You must be looking forward to having your boy back for the summer,” remarked one of my colleagues today. And I am, I really am.

But if we’re being really honest here, I am having mixed feelings about resuming the whole dinner thing. I’ve gotten—how can I say it—a bit lax in my efforts to produce wholesome evening meals on a regular basis. But I do like cooking for my strapping young man because he’s such an appreciative audience, unlike some other male I live with. When I’ve whipped up something positively gourmet, The Hubby inevitably comes home still full from a big lunch. And the days I skip the dinner prep? Naturally, he’s starved…and grumpy about the tunafish sandwich default menu.