[Previous: "You Tear Me To Bits."] [Main Index] [Next: "O Come, Let Us Abhor Them."]


02/28/2003 Entry: "Must Be The Wine Talking."

Well, now that Boyfriend has finished his cake—from scratch, no less—for Movie Club tonight (this month's movie discussion is The Pianist, which I liked a lot) I should get started on my dish. But a couple glasses of wine (it ain't Two-buck Chuck but it's the same price, anyway) and the lateness of the hour have given the impetuous child within a louder voice than usual:

"I don't wanna."

But we really need to; I don't know how early I'll be able to get home from work tomorrow. "I don't wanna." I'm bargaining now. OK, so if I make the Rosemary Potatoes tomorrow (they'll be better warm anyway) then I can make the Chilled Asparagus tonight. "I don't wanna." Well, OK, then, I could serve Roasted Asparagus Bundles instead, which can cook at the same time as the potatoes. So does any of this mean I can just waltz out of the kitchen tonight and go play The Simpsons Road Rage instead?

Wait...now I don't remember whose side I'm on. What was I doing? I think I needed to go blanch something. Oh, Bla-a-a-anche...

[...and here insert the clattering of pots and pans, followed by a short yell, and then a person limping down the hall towards the adhesive bandages again...]

[Main Index]

Powered By Greymatter

Copyright 2000, Ultramundane.com