After doing all the usual chores this evening, I came inside and unloaded the dishwasher. I was actually putting the last item away when I happened to actually look at it. It was dirty. Apparently, I hadn’t actually turned the dishwasher on when I loaded it the night before during the Presidential debate. Have you ever been so tired before that you hadn’t noticed that you were putting away dirty dishes? Me either! I quickly grabbed glasses and plates and silverware and loaded it all back into the dishwasher and turned it on.
I had grabbed a rotisserie chicken from the grocery store on the way home from work this evening, planning on pulling off the meat and making quick chicken and rice for dinner. SwampMan put an end to that REAL quick as he did not consider grocery store rotisserie chicken to be edible.
I considered my options. The rotisserie chicken did not have a butthole, so I could not serve him that over rice. I couldn’t yell because my throat was a little sore from screaming “BULLSHIT!” at the television during the debate last night. In the end, I just calmly fixed him something else. He will be taking me out for dinner tomorrow night. I guarantee it.
I served SwampMan his dinner in his Lazy Chair while he was watching YouTube on his computer. He said “You know, I continually marvel at your level of culinary expertise!”
WTF? I looked at him suspiciously. “WHAT culinary expertise? It’s hamburgers!”
“Yeah, but you have green stuff with yellow stuff on top…..”
“That would be fresh spinach sauteed in butter with cheese grated on top.”
“See what I mean? And it’s delicious, too. AND you made guacamole that is JUST amazing. You just open the refrigerator, grab things, and BAM! Some great combination that tastes wonderful appears.”
“Yeah, that stuff that you made last night was sooooooo good. What was it?”
“I had a little left over ground beef, so I browned it with onions, drained it, and mixed it with salsa and jalapenos and cheese, and made some rice with turmeric and cumin, then dumped the hamburger stuff over the top of it.”
“Did you have a recipe?”
“Nah. Just some leftover stuff.”
“See how amazing you are?”
I looked at him sceptically. The stuff was getting DEEP. I wondered whether I looked as though I might be the sort of woman that was about ready to administer those hamburgers rectally. Maybe, because he hadn’t mentioned how yummy last night’s dinner was during the debate, but he’d been busily screaming at the television, too.
Then he continued. “In fact, there’s really only one complaint that I have about dinner.”
“The onions you sliced for my hamburgers. You didn’t chop them into small enough pieces.”
“I figured you were man enough to handle it!” I replied.
“Well, I was just sayin’. I don’t want you to feel bad about being just that little bit short of perfection, though.”
“I will NOT be losing ANY sleep over it!” I advised him.
He grinned. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
Oh, yeah. He’s definitely buying dinner tomorrow night.