Wednesday, April 15, 2009


Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Riddle me this:

You are in charge (whether someone put you in charge or gender expectations put you in charge or your complete inability to relenquish control put you in charge) of making dinner.

You have the perfect meal plan worked out in your head.

But you can't remember if your partner actually likes, tolerates, despises or loves said entree.

(If you can call it an entree).

And your cell phone is dead so you can't text him to find out.

Do you go ahead and make it anyway?

(Keeping in mind that this hypothetical you is extreeeeemely sensitive when it comes to criticism of the food you prepare, for some back-assed awful reason. GIVE ME THE MARTHA STEWART BRANDED GOLD STAR OF COOKERY GOSHDARNIT!)
(Also keeping in mind that said you occasionally mutters under your breath "This is the twenty-first century for frig's sake, I'm not a short-order cook/maid/Martha Effing Stewart and if he doesn't like it he can STICK IT")
(Oh, man. Look what you've started now.)