CB came home to what he thought was a home cooked meal.
Do not tell him otherwise.
Fried chicken from Dillon's.
Country Crock mashed potatoes.
Gravy from an envelope. An envelope! How does that even work?
In my defense, this morning I did throw together a cucumber and onion salad that had to marinate all day. I should get some points for thinking ahead a little bit.
As we were eating, CB was looking around the kitchen wondering where all the dirty dishes were. I'm a full contact cook and he knows it. Tonight there was no path of destruction through the kitchen. Or anywhere else, for that matter. (Sometimes I cause collateral damage in others areas of the house.)
CB's not a complete idiot so I think he might be on to me; but he's a good husband so he'll never say a word.
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