Here it is 5:30 a.m. and I have been up for an hour and a half. I already have a nice beef roast in the oven. Soon I will be adding carrots and potatoes. Hey, I never said I wasn’t just a tad crazy!
Actually there is a method to my madness. First of all, I want to get it all cooked while it is still cool outside. Then I can just reheat it later.
Secondly, I thought my husband would enjoy a nice meal. I have been off work for the past 4 days, but have not actually cooked much. I need to impress DH with my homemaker abilities, so that he can see how wonderful it would be to have me home all day…
As he brings the freshly-ironed linen napkin to his mouth after enjoying that moist, tender, onion-flavored beef, he raises his crystal champagne flute into the air, “My darling,” he says, “That was a fine meal. I know how much you love your job, but I really think your true talent is in the home. I hope I don’t upset you, but I really must insist that you give a two-week notice when you return to work on Monday.”
My hand flies over my chest as I feign a look of stricken surprise. "You know I love you, but, please, oh please, DON'T take my job!"
He pulls my flushed face to his and passes those champagne-infused lips across mine. "Well, OK,", I say, "You know I only live to make you happy."
....................Oh, sorry, I just lapsed into a daydream there.
They just don’t make men like they used to.
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