N. and I are sitting here waiting for our dinner (cod fillets) to bake even though normally at 7:30, we've already scarfed our meals and are moving on to bourbon and the goodness of syndication that is "227" and "The Golden Girls." It's my fault that we won't be eating till 8:00 although I would like it to be known that I take 98.9% responsibility for feeding our family o' three these days. N. was supposed to be responsible for Wednesday dinners, but that went the way of him cleaning the bathroom on Saturdays. Without being reminded.
Oops. This hunger is making me bitchy. To counter those mean, hungry thoughts here are two nice things about N:
1. He's really good at putting together The Bean's Bum Genius diapers (without being reminded!) and
2. He's being really forgiving about the fact that I bought fish for dinner, left it in the fridge, went to the gym, and came back expecting somehow dinner would be served.
Okay, we had the dinner. And N. informed me that it was cooked just fine, but he just doesn't like cod.
I told him that his comment was so getting blogged and he requested that I also mention that he really enjoyed the lentil chili I made yesterday and he doesn't even like lentils.
Hmpf.
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