I decided to make a really yummy dinner tonight – grilled steaks, some fresh green beans, and little gold potatoes. I spent over an hour in the kitchen – you know how it is – it takes awhile just prepping. I seasoned the steaks and set them aside for grilling, I lovingly cut out every single little imperfection on each potato (it’s how I roll), and I cut the ends off the tiny, fresh green beans. I made a yummy butter/ranch sauce for the potatoes and put them in the oven. I sent hubby out to grill.
When the steaks were finished he brought them back in and the green beans were finished as well. The potatoes had to cook a bit longer, but I was starving so I decided to eat my steak and some beans. Now, some of you may know that I have a stomach issue (abdominal MRI is tomorrow), and I cannot each much at once. So I said to my husband, and I quote, “HONEY, PLEASE DON’T EAT ALL OF THE POTATOES – I NEED TO LET MY FOOD SETTLE AND THEN I WILL HAVE SOME”. He said “okay”. He is doing something else and isn’t ready to eat yet. I go to sit down and relax after finishing up in the kitchen and he says, “Oh can you please hard boil some eggs, Liz and I want to make deviled eggs”. I’m sure my eyes rolled back as far as they possibly could when I said, “Why didn’t you tell me that while I was cooking?” Geez, it would have been so easy to put them on and let them boil while everything else was cooking. UGH. So I got the eggs boiling for him.
So just a few minutes ago, I am STARVING again, as I didn’t eat much. I said, “Oh, how did you like the potatoes?”. He replied, “They were REALLY good – I ate them all!”. Oh, uh uh – no he did not. I said, “All?”. I walked in the kitchen and sure enough, the big pan of potatoes was gone. To say I was mad is an understatement. It’s not only that I am starving (which is a huge part of it), but it’s the principle of the thing. Did you listen? Did I stutter? What the hell? It turns out my daughter didn’t get any of them either. Also, they smelled so good cooking and I couldn’t wait to try them – I really wanted to try them.
So as I sit here stewing, hubby asks if the eggs are ready. I answered that they should be, but to run cold water over them. I was implying that I’m not getting up. However, I would tend to them in a bit (put them in refrigerator). Next thing I know I hear several expletives flying from the kitchen. Yep – he is standing at sink peeling eggs, without success. I go to check and one has broken open…they are not all the way cooked. I tell him to hold on and I will cook them longer. So he chucks all of the eggs that he had trouble peeling, down the garbage disposal. AACCKKKK. I could have used them.
So I sit here starving – I have been all day. I look forward to dinner daily, but have to eat it in phases.
I am so frustrated. Things like this happen so often, and when several happen at once, I lose it. I find myself talking to myself after these events, saying things like, “Did you listen?” I DO NOT GET IT!! Men, if you are reading, can you please explain??
I could go on, but I will spare you. No wait, I changed my mind. While we are on the subject of pet peeves:
Why do men put the toilet paper so the loose end is on the underside? Even after I have explained it (nicely) so many times?
Why do you not hang up the hand towel on the towel rack in the downstairs bathroom? It is the one room of the house that I can manage to keep orderly…except…for…that…one…towel that is always on the counter. I hang it up several times a day, but it always ends up back on the counter.
Why is it that when you do a project around the house you don’t leave a pathway for me to get through? I practically have to go out the front door and around through the garage to get where I need to go. Please, pretty please – with sugar on top – leave a pathway so I can get from room to room.
Why must you put all of my papers and such into one pile? I have a system that works for me, and when you smoosh everything together, most things cannot be found ever again, or I forget an important appointment.
Why do I feel like The Miracle Worker sometimes? You are such a smart, loving man and you are so neat and tidy.
Okay – I’m really done ranting now – thanks for letting me get that off my chest.
Your Eighty MPH Mom