I hate to say it, but Mr. Perfect let me down. I sent him out to get the ingredients for the Orzo salad and he came home empty-handed. Okay, he had to take his elderly mom to the doctor. You call that an excuse?
So I guess I'll be heating up chicken nuggets again tonight...unless we decide to order in for pizza.
Avo still doesn't quite trust me in the kitchen after I nearly set off a four-alarm fire the other night.
“What’s that smell?” he asked, scanning the living room for campfires.
The fire alarm began to wail and our daughters, Jesse and Ruby, covered their ears and huddled under the kitchen table, as if for an old-fashioned air-raid drill.
Oops. I was pre-heating the toaster for the kids’ nightly feast of chicken nuggets. I guess I forgot to clean the tray.
“I wasn’t cooking anything and I burned it!”
Apparently, I am such a bad cook that I burn things even when I’m not cooking...
Rather than complain that his wife can’t manage to “cook” prepared food without setting off a fire alarm, Mr. Perfect lovingly proceeded to whip me up a divine chicken paprika with carrots and noodles. You see what I'm dealing with here?
Avo is the kind of guy who, after a stressful day working with high-profile ad agency clients, finds it relaxing to whip up a roast turkey dinner with all the trimmings.
His wife on the other hand? After a long day fiddling on the internet or playing with the kids, I find it relaxing to have my husband prepare me dinner, do the laundry and take out the trash.
So I guess I'll forgive him for not stopping at the Food Co-Op. He can always redeem himself tomorrow.
UPDATE: We ended up going out to dinner with friends at the local diner.