The hubs calls me at work, " I made meatballs!"
Me, "Oh yeah? What kind of meatballs?"
Him, "I don't know I saw Giada making them, so I thought I'd try to do it. Seemed easy enough. I baked them."
Me, "You did?" (utterly surprised because he likes everything fried or suveed)
Him, "Yes, in the cupcake tin so they keep their shape"
Me, "You made MEAT in what I make CAKE in?"
Him, "Don't worry, I'll wash it"
Fast forward 1 day to me putting dishes away.
Me, "Uh, hun? You said you washed the cupcake tin."
Him, "I did!"
Me, "It's all greasy on the sides and the top, you only washed the cups. You have to wash it again. I'll leave it in the sink to soak, ok?"
Him, "OK" (slightly disgruntled, as I have distrubed his comic book reading)
Fast forward 2 days (today), I am now scrubbing the hell out of the cupcake tin, which is covered in grease from the meatballs and it is now 3 days old grease...UGH!
"Babe? Stay the HELL away from my bakeware if you don't want to lose a finger, m'kay"
(FoodNetwork is so banned from this house)
4 comments:
oh, go easy! he meant well. it's the thought that counts. *trying to think of more platitudes/cliches* :)
I encourage Joe to cook whenever he wants, but he's not the most thorough dish washer. Our rule is that whomever cooks, the other person washes up. Usually that means Joe does dishes, but then I wind up having to re-wash half of them, anyway. Urgh.
Isn't Giada the chick with the boobs? "Hi, I'm cooking and – by the way – HERE ARE MY BOOBS!!" So basically your husband watched this and then made a food item that was also, you know, ROUND.
"Look, babe! I made boo....er, meatballs!"
Maybe if Gialda would soap up in a white t-shirt & do some dishes men would be interested in doing dishes.
Lesley was sooo right. It's all about the boobs with her & the annoying twat know as Rachel Ray.
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