Last night my mood was immediately soured by a snobby remark by my husband the scientist when he got home. Though his comment had nothing to do with me, I did not like it one bit. I warned him, "I'm going to blog about this." Yes, I would reveal to the world his pretentiousness! That would show him!
I fumed about it as I finished cooking supper. I continued to stew as we ate. Naturally, I took it out on the food.
I am so sick of salad, I thought to myself. I never liked salad before. It was not until I started dating this man that I would even touch the stuff. And now we have it every night. Every single night. Ridiculous! Over and over again - lettuce, peppers, cherry tomatoes. And this time he bought some lettuce that tastes weird. It's too woody. Ugh.
Who else has both salad and vegetables with their meal? No one. Normal people eat meat and potatoes and maybe a vegetable on the side. I am normal. I want meat and potatoes. I do not want meat and vegetables and more vegetables on the side. I knew I should've made some rice tonight.
By this time I had eaten my pork chop and cauliflower. I resolved not to touch my salad. So there, you vegetable-lover!
After all, there aren't even Craisins on this salad. Just raisins that are dry, not plump like I like them. I knew I should've bought Craisins at the store yesterday. I would've eaten half the bag by now. And then I'd be gassy tonight. That'd really show him!
At this unfortunate moment, my husband the scientist noticed that I had not gone near my salad bowl.
"You aren't eating your salad?" he asked in genuine surprise.
"I don't like salad," I snapped.
My father-in-law actually stopped chewing in shock.
"Okay," my patient husband said. My husband who I tease for being extraordinarily stubborn, who is apparently second only to his immature wife in that category.
"I mean, I already ate my cauliflower," I added weakly.
We're doomed when we have children, aren't we?