Where's the dinner?

I've decided I only really enjoy cooking when I haven't done it in awhile. When I do it every day, like most days, I grow to hate it, dread it, despise it, would rather give birth than cook. So instead of leaving my husband, who is our sole breadwinner, to bring home take out every night, I discovered "family dinner frozen entrees" and "quick throw-em-together" dinners. They save me from the kitchen at least a couple of nights a week. I discovered he LOVES Stouffers Chicken Enchiladas, a party size entree that always leaves enough leftovers for his lunch the next day. He also likes their lasagna, chicken lasagna, and something called Grandma's Chicken and Rice Bake. For my quickie meals, I've found two cans of canned ham, diced, mixed with two boxes of Velvetta Cheese Potatoes is a very "comfort food" type dinner. He'll even eat fish sticks with mac and cheese or corn dogs with tater tots if that's what I fix. On other days, I throw something in the crock pot.
He likes having dinner ready when he gets home, and he acts so very GRATEFUL for it, since he was a widower when I met him and lived on Taco Bell and Burger King. But if I decided not to cook, he'd not complain about bringing something home or taking me out. It's just that guilt I feel from not working, and not cooking, and not having kids at home to keep me from doing either that bugs me.
So for now, I cook dinner most nights. But he is eligible for retirement in twelve years, and if he does, I'm retiring from cooking too, and am going to hire a maid! Maybe the frozen entree selection will be even better by then. Or we will have "Jetson" type kitchens where we push a button and Rosie brings the dinner.
Which reminds me of a joke I heard. Husband comes home and finds wife lying on the couch. She tells him she's not feeling well at all, and hasn't got his dinner yet. To which he replies not to worry, he'll do the dinner. He goes to the kitchen and she hears him fumble around in there opening cabinets etc. He comes back into the living room and asks, "Honey, where do you keep the dinner?"