Self-care can mean enjoying meals in bed, bath & beyond

Dear Readers, Life is often messy and sometimes downright crummy, but I say we embrace it. If the cookie is gonna crumble, the least we can do is enjoy the dang cookie. Also, if you lick your finger, and stick it to the crumbles, you still get to enjoy all those tiny cookie memories too. My point is…have you tried eating in bed?

Breakfast in bed is often relegated to special occasions like birthdays or Mother’s Day, but have you tried it on a Tuesday night? Or a Friday afternoon?

I’m no stranger to curling up with a rotisserie chicken, dipping my ketchup-flavored potato chips into sardine pâté like its bean dip, laying there in bed, sucking the salt off hot edamame, binge-watching every possible YouTube video of the Texas Water Safari, my head propped with three pillows, noshing on a cheese and jam medley while devouring a library book… It’s messy, sure, but I find joy in kitchen- tableless abandon, allowing me to savor the moment. There’s a kind of freedom in snuggling up with my favorite foods under the warm comfort of soft blankets, protecting me from the demands of the world. My love affair with bed-dining began after the birth of my youngest son with a plate lovingly-prepared by my midwife, known affectionately as “Sam the Midwife.”

She changed my life with a medley of treats — cheese, eggs, tomatoes, oranges — as a delicious reward for pushing a baby out of my body right there in the middle of my bedroom. That moment of eating in bed became synonymous with my self-care, tangible deservedness after overcoming seemingly impossible challenges. Oh, I think there were strawberries and some buttered toast too!

It’s been fifteen years since that pivotal bed-meal, and I’ve since shared the joy of bed-dining with various friends and lovers, witnessing their embrace of this unconventional ritual. There’s something transformative about breaking free from societal eating norms and allowing ourselves this guilty pleasure, even if it means a few crumbs in the sheets. It’s a raw authenticity. It speaks to our primal desires for comfort, pleasure and indulgence, all the more when hot honey fried chicken is our nightcap.

If you’re squeamish about dining where you sleep, perhaps I might suggest my other favorite place to eat — the bathtub!

Mmmmm…a steaming hot bath, lavender-rosevanilla bubbles, along with a tray of yummy charcuterie there across the tub…it’s the true makings of a Calgon commercial, y’all! I promise, it will “cake” you away.

There’s something undeniably luxurious about dining in the tub. Of course, it comes with its own set of challenges (burrata and bath bombs don’t mix), but the rewards certainly outweigh the risks. I’ve accidentally spilled merlot into my suds, but I find eating in my bed or in the bath as a blissful escape, immersing in the pleasure of comfort, food and comfort food.

So, dear readers, dare to dine in unexpected places. Whether it’s your bed, your bath or your non-kitchen- table beyond, go ahead, Try it. You might like it.

I swear that’s the entire premise of Green Eggs and Ham. I would eat them in a box (springs), and I would eat them with a Fox! *nail polish emoji* Wherever you may find yourself enjoying your next meal, here’s to dining in decadence. You’ve earned it. Cheers!

Xoxo,