Okay, so today’s entry is short. Like, short, short. I’m blaming it on my day off laziness, which has come after a day of working in the garden and running errands. And this is in no way tweaked from an actual conversation between me and my husband. Absolutely not.
May 12, 2015
He looked down at the sizzling chicken and rice meal in the stainless steel skillet. Beside him, she did the same.
“That’s a lot of onions,” he said.
“Yup. And a lot of peppers.”
“I don’t even know how I could doctor this up.”
“Doctor? You can’t doctor that. You’d have to do surgery.”
“I’m sure I could do some kind of patch job,” he said, sounding diminishingly hopeful.
“No way,” she said. “I’m sure it’s good; it’s just that we don’t like onions and peppers.”
“It will take me ten minutes to pick out what I don’t like and I’ll have a half-empty burrito and a pile of stuff on my plate that I won’t eat. It’s exhausting.”
“Well, then, you better start making plans for second dinner.”
“Ooooh. We’ve got that gouda-filled ravioli.”