I don't think of myself as lazy, but I might be. Every summer, my cooking habits change. By change, I mean they cease to exist. Dinner could be a plate of pimento cheese and crackers with a side of tomatoes, or a make-it-yourself tomato sandwich bar. And by "bar," I mean, "Look in the fridge, There should be stuff in there for sandwiches, y'all!"
But, this summer, we have a lovely French teen staying with us for a month — and we can't have him thinking Americans eat nothing but snack food, now, can we?