
OK. I hate to cook. There it is.
Hate it, hate it, hate the mess, hate the cleanup, hate all of it.
When you look up my blogger profile you won't find that my other blog is "Happy Hour Sue In The Kitchen!". (but do feel free to enjoy "Inappropriate Twilight Obsession".
So every time my husband goes away on business, I take a cooking vacation. Culinary outsourcing. EVERY time. Lazy, party of 1. 'Cause that's how I roll.
Whether it's one night or five, you're more likely to find a pygmy stripper playing Dance Dance Revolution in my kitchen than a warm fry pan.
(whoa- I can't seem to shake that visual...)
Anyway. Of course I always get busted when my husband calls.
Husband: Hey! What're you guys doing?
Me: Oh you know, same old.- Gettin' ready for dinner...
Husband: Yeah? What's for dinner?
Me: What?
Husband: What's for dinner?
Me: Don't let the dog get that!!! Sorry. Stupid dog.
Husband: What're you making?
Me: Oh! Tonight? The kids wanted Taco Bell....
Husband: Didn't you do Burger King last night?
Me: What?
Husband: Didn't you just have Burger King?
Me: What? No. Oh! Yeah. We were out.
Husband: Out?
Me: Yeah. Out....getting Burger King.
Husband: (sighs) Are they getting ANY vegetables this week?
Me: Totally. Monday we had Subway.
Husband: Collin has onions, Lorelei likes it plain and Brie has bacon.
Me: Oh shoot! The toilet's overflowing!
Husband: Just make 'em some pasta or something tomorrow...
Me: Right. Or pizza. Probably pasta. Italian for sure.














