On the Menu
So the husband has been working bitch hours lately. He's a night person and they've had him rolling in at 4 am...6 am...4 am....
This morning, at 6 am, the alarm goes off and I hear a groan from the lump beside me.
"Time to wake up," says me.
"Sner...merg...warfle."
"Come on. Maybe it'll be a good day." (It's hard to be optimistic at 6am)
Groan, "Not a chance."
"Well, if it gets too bad you can always put a booger in the food."
At this point I expected an 'Ew' or a denial of some sort. Instead I get, "Yeah."
And he rolls out of bed to get dressed.
Yeah.
I think I'll be eating in for a while.
And doing all the cooking.