I am STILL languising in a pool of pus/snot/ordure after over 4 weeks of lergy
I msn's dh earlier to say "how did your offotball game go" and "what time will you be home" and "what shall we do about food tonight"
we agreed that we couldn't be arsed to cook, we are both exhausted and wanted to have something quick/easy and get the kids to bed a bit earlier as they have been up late for several nights
he said he might go to the chippy but would definitely pick up something quick and easy on his way home through town
So he arrives home 45 minutes later with a pile of raw ingredients and starts farting about chopping raw chicken and peeling spuds and dicking around with bloody raw peapods etc
apparently he "didn't fancy" any of the less time-consuming options after all
which I might add would ordinarily be lovely - we do eat decent food most of the time, generally cooked and prepared by me but he does cook too. It's because I am ill and we are all knackered that we agreed something less virtuous but quicker would be better.
but it's going to be 7.45 at the earliest before any of us see any food, the kids have been driving me wild all day and now I am stuck looking after them (and they're hungry as well) while he takes his sweet time in the goddamn kitchen
and you can bet your ass he will come over all injured if I say anything, because I am supposed to be GRATEFUL he is 'cooking a meal'
Gah. Fuckarse.