Cooking. *Oy.*
Dec. 21st, 2005 05:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
foxmonkeyYes, in just a few minutes I'll hustle my buns from the chair in which they've been planted all day, and slide myself into the kitchen to make my infamous chicken pot pie. Except without the pie part because, no pie crusts! Instead I'll add noodles and it will become the amazine chicken pot pie casserole. It's good stuff. Oops. No carrots. Wonder if I can sweet talk Monkeyhusband into going to the store...?
Waaaah! Must clean the kitchen in order to cook! And then after oven is warm from cooking, I will attempt to bake cookies!
When I showed hubs the cookie ingredients his face was absolutely blank. This is a man who writhes on the couch and moans in pleasure when I bring cookies home from office potlucks. He adores or abhors my friends depending on their cookie-baking skills. So I'm dancing the bag of chocolate chips in the air and nothing, absolutely nothing was given away by his expression.
I finally had to say, "I'm making cookies." And even then he just kind of blinked, like I was suddenly speaking Farsi, or something.
"Cookies. I thought I'd bake cookies."
"You're baking cookies?" And I have to give him credit, the emphasis on 'you're' was very, very slight. *Hardly* the reception I expected. I expected at least a little wriggle of anticipation. What a clod!
I said something about how yes, even *I've* been known to bake a cookie or two in my time. Eventually he got with the program and rustled up some enthusiasm, but this may very well be the last time I break eggs in a bowl and cream butter for his ass. :-p He just came in and gave me a kiss, the bastige. ;-)
Waaaah! Must clean the kitchen in order to cook! And then after oven is warm from cooking, I will attempt to bake cookies!
When I showed hubs the cookie ingredients his face was absolutely blank. This is a man who writhes on the couch and moans in pleasure when I bring cookies home from office potlucks. He adores or abhors my friends depending on their cookie-baking skills. So I'm dancing the bag of chocolate chips in the air and nothing, absolutely nothing was given away by his expression.
I finally had to say, "I'm making cookies." And even then he just kind of blinked, like I was suddenly speaking Farsi, or something.
"Cookies. I thought I'd bake cookies."
"You're baking cookies?" And I have to give him credit, the emphasis on 'you're' was very, very slight. *Hardly* the reception I expected. I expected at least a little wriggle of anticipation. What a clod!
I said something about how yes, even *I've* been known to bake a cookie or two in my time. Eventually he got with the program and rustled up some enthusiasm, but this may very well be the last time I break eggs in a bowl and cream butter for his ass. :-p He just came in and gave me a kiss, the bastige. ;-)
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no subject
Date: 2005-12-21 10:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-21 11:12 pm (UTC)LOL! Is your husband a lunatic too? ;-)
He came in while I was writing so I read the entry for him. He thought the "bastige" line was hysterical. ;-)
no subject
Date: 2005-12-22 01:16 pm (UTC)