The Hidden "Question Tax"
(And why recipes aren’t the solution to your exhaustion)
If you’ve ever stood in your kitchen at 4:15 PM and felt a wave of irritation because someone asked, “What do we have to eat?”—you are currently paying the Question Tax.
It’s not that you don’t love your family. It’s that your Patience Bank is empty.
Most people think the “Witching Hour” is hard because cooking is hard. They are wrong.
I realized the first “Hard Truth” about teen autonomy:
Cooking isn’t the hard part; the mental gymnastics of DECIDING is.
You Have “Inventory Brain”
I call this the Decision Fatigue Rule.
As the “Kitchen General,” you aren’t just a cook. You are the Inventory Manager. You are the only person in the house carrying the “Invisible Inventory” in your head.
• You know the milk is nearly empty.
• You know the chicken needs to be used by tonight.
• You know that one teen won’t eat onions and the other is currently “bulking” for football.
When you stand in front of that fridge, your brain is trying to solve a 500-piece puzzle while three people are shouting at you. This is Inventory Brain—that foggy, paralyzed feeling of having plenty of food but being too mentally drained to assemble it into a meal.
The “Re-buy Loop” Trap
Because you can’t see your inventory clearly, you fall into the Re-buy Loop. You buy a third jar of cumin because you couldn’t find the first two. You buy another bag of spinach while the one in the crisper drawer turns into a green puddle.
This doesn’t just waste money—it clutters your mind. It keeps you trapped in a cycle of “managing” things instead of “living” your life.
You Are an “Inventory Manager” (And it’s not your fault)
At this point, you have self-selected into a role you never applied for. You have been relegated to being the Inventory Manager of your home.
Here is the “Hard Truth”: As long as you remain the Inventory Manager, your teenagers will remain helpless, and you will remain exhausted.
But there is a way to resign from this position without the system collapsing.
It starts with bridging the gap between your messy fridge and their specific motivations.
PS. I’ll be honest: This is not a magic bullet. If you hate the idea of a home-cooked meal or don’t care about what your kids eat, this won’t help you. But if you love a healthy table and you’re just physically exhausted from the mental gymnastics of “deciding,” this is the system that finally lets you resign as the Inventory Manager.