Tonight was supposed to be special. I planned to cook a nice dinner for myself. I wanted something warm, tasty, and homemade. After a long day, I thought I deserved a good meal. I made a shopping list, got ready, and went to the supermarket. Everything was going perfectly—until I realized I forgot something very important: my wallet.
This is the story of how I ended up eating instant ramen instead of the delicious dinner I had imagined.
Today was a little cold and cloudy. I worked from home in the morning and had a lot of meetings. By the afternoon, I was feeling tired and hungry. I started thinking about dinner.
“What should I eat tonight?” I asked myself.
I didn’t want to order food or eat outside. I wanted to cook something myself. Something simple but satisfying. After thinking for a while, I decided to make chicken and vegetable stir-fry with rice. It’s one of my favorite meals—healthy, warm, and full of flavor.
I smiled and stood up. “Let’s do it,” I said.
I opened the fridge to see what I already had.
There were some vegetables—half a carrot, some onions, and a little cabbage. But I didn’t have any meat. I also needed rice and some sauce for flavor. I didn’t have soy sauce or garlic. So, I wrote a shopping list.
Shopping List:
I put on my jacket and got my eco bag. It was 5:30 p.m., and the supermarket was only ten minutes away. I felt happy and hungry.
The walk was refreshing. The air was cool, but not too cold. I listened to music with my earphones and enjoyed watching the sky change colors as the sun went down. I imagined how the chicken would smell when I cooked it. I was already excited to eat.
When I arrived at the supermarket, I picked up a basket and started looking for the items on my list.
I found everything quickly. The chicken looked fresh. I chose a red bell pepper and picked the best garlic I could find. I grabbed a small bag of rice and a bottle of soy sauce. Everything was going well.
But then, as I walked to the register, I suddenly stopped.
Something felt wrong.
I reached into my pocket—no wallet. I checked my jacket—no wallet. I looked in my bag—no wallet.
“Oh no...” I whispered.
I had forgotten to bring my wallet. No cash. No credit card. Nothing.
I stood there for a moment, not sure what to do. I checked again, but it was clear: I had left my wallet at home.
I quietly returned the basket with all the items to the shelf. I felt embarrassed. I hoped nobody noticed. I walked out of the store and sighed.
“I can’t believe it,” I said to myself.
It was a little funny, but also disappointing. I had really wanted to eat something good tonight. I thought about going home to get my wallet and coming back, but it was already getting dark. I was too hungry and tired.
So I just started walking home.
When I got back to my apartment, I took off my shoes and opened the fridge again. Nothing had changed. I still had only a few vegetables. No meat. No sauce. Nothing that could make a real meal.
I looked in the kitchen cabinet.
Rice: No. Pasta: No. Bread: Only one old slice. Instant ramen: Yes.
There it was—a single pack of instant ramen. It was the kind with soy sauce flavor. Not very special, but at least it was food.
I took it out and read the instructions on the back. Easy: boil water, add noodles, add soup powder, and cook for 3 minutes.
I turned on the stove and began to boil the water.
While the water was heating, I chopped the little carrot and cabbage from the fridge. I thought, “Maybe I can make this ramen a little better.”
When the water boiled, I added the noodles and waited. Then I put in the soup powder and the vegetables. I stirred it all together and turned off the heat after a few minutes.
I poured the ramen into a bowl and sat at the table.
The ramen smelled better than I expected. The vegetables made it look colorful, and the hot soup felt perfect for the cold evening.
I took the first bite.
It was… not bad.
Actually, it was warm, salty, and comforting. Of course, it wasn’t the dinner I had planned, but it wasn’t terrible either.
I smiled a little. “Well, this is life,” I thought. “Sometimes you forget your wallet, and sometimes you eat ramen.”
I finished the meal and drank the last sip of soup. I felt full—not only in my stomach but also in my heart. The day didn’t go as planned, but I still had something to eat. That was enough.
After dinner, I washed the dishes and sat on the sofa. I thought about the evening. It was a small mistake—just forgetting a wallet. But it reminded me of a few things:
Maybe tomorrow I’ll go to the store again and make the chicken dish. But tonight, I survived with instant ramen—and a smile.
Today didn’t go as I had hoped. I wanted to cook something nice, but I forgot my wallet and couldn’t buy anything. Still, I didn’t go hungry. I used what I had at home and made the best of it.
Sometimes, small mistakes lead to simple stories. And sometimes, instant ramen tastes better than you think—especially after a long day.
So next time you forget something important, don’t panic. You might still end up with a warm meal and a good memory.