He is no Pioneer Woman. I'm serious.
It all started when he has been practically
With me being in a cinnamon roll induced coma--please don't ask me what my diet has consisted of for two days...okay, fine: cinnamon rolls, Diet Coke, a few bites of mashed potatoes and some Mexican food. Ugh. I'm going on a water diet tomorrow--I have refused to make it. But he kept begging and begging--so I told him what any sensible woman would do.
I told him if he wanted it that bad to make it himself.
I knew it was a bad sign when I walked in the kitchen and he was turning the meat over in the pan and they were pretty burnt. Moments later I heard windows slamming open, the back door opening and fans getting turned on.
This was all followed by smoke filling my entire house. Oh my Lord. It couldn't get much worse...until I sat down to eat and tried to cut it open. Um. It was raw. Red. Bloody.
I told him that it wasn't cooked and man, did he get defensive! He was all oh, please, babe. You eat steak redder than this.
Uh, this isn't steak...and my plate is filling up with red yucky juice....after seeing he was upset I told him it was okay--we all know how many things I've screwed up trying to cook!
He asked what I was going to eat--he would cook me something, run to get me something else. I told him not to worry about it--and did what any sensible woman in my shoes would have done.
I picked up my can of Diet Coke and grabbed just one more cinnamon roll....