To believe a judge will let me walk free if I Wok my DH to a pulp

[KringleCandleLover]

I've been working all day and have come home to find DH has cooked(sweet Jesus) dinner. We usually have a takeaway.

I could smell mushy peas as I opened my car door on the drive.

The sight of my kitchen nearly made me faint with horror. I have never in all my days seen anything like it. If I didn't know better, I'd hazard a guess that the Jolly Green Giant had used my splashback as a mirror to pop his cysts.

DH states its the 1st time he's cooked real(non tinned)mushy peas and I should make allowances. Yep, I agree. But the fact that my (best)pan was bubbling away, spewing a foam of green whilst he played COD is not something I can overlook.

The 3 dogs were licking the pea lava from the oven door(yes it had travelled that far) so their arses will no doubt stink later tonight.

Anyway.... Peas aside, the homemade pie and mash were lovely. Just the ticket.. I gave DH praise for his efforts.

Then I said I would begin the clean-up. DH wouldn't have it.... Said I'd been at work and to chillax. Hell, he even poured me a glass of my favourite tipple (Dr Pepper)..

What I saw next imho is unforgiveable.. He started mopping up the pea juice which had filled top my my hob with my best teatowels... 2 of them... I screamed, he jumped and banged his head on the extractor fan and said some very rude things...

Anyway, DH is now sat on the PS3 and I've cleaned the carnage..

Surely I'd walk free with a suspended sentence...

I would post but it would be so insufferably smug that I'd deserve a woking myself.

Sod the wok, use the frozen leg of lamb. After the deed is done, move body to spare room. Invite friends over to dinner, give dogs the bone. Dispose of body. There is now no evidence. Job done, you are free to go.

Cripes, I am really devious, aren't I?

I think it's like this in a lot of households. One person such as me does the boring bloody weekly meals a la spag Bol, lasagne etc and my DH does the fancy meals that take endless time to prepare and leave the kitchen looking like Armageddon.

Re the lemon tart-I've actually just discovered some lemon curd underneath one of the kitchen cabinets. God only knows how it got there but I suspect over enthusiastic use of the hand blender.

This is amazing. I've just witnessed similar pea-induced tension at my parents.

"I'm going to leave this fucking man and his fucking pulse obsession. Then he can boil all the fucking pulses he bloody fucking wants. Look at my PAN!"

My mother's mouth.