I think I found my soul mate, AND a way to get out of meal prep a few times a week.

Both are equally awesome.

First, my soul mate. I think she's random and funny and ridiculous. I LOVE IT. Read her blog.

Secondly. I came home and asked Fiance what he wanted for dinner. He didn't know, as usual. It's a cute little routine we have to keep things interesting in our relationship. I come home, he asks what's for dinner, I ask him what he wants, he doesn't know, but all hell will break loose if this little woman doesn't get her Puerto Rican ass in the kitchen AND MAKE A GODDAMN SAMMICH. It's how we say "I love you."

ANYWAYS. I suggested chicken spaghetti, because we've had a package of ground chicken in the fridge since Sunday. (If you have not had ground chicken in your spaghetti...shame on you.) He said, "I don't really feel like making that." Um. I'm gonna make it. "Well, if you feel like making it..."

I was sitting here reading the blog of my new soul mate (I promised her I wouldn't stalk her...that's cool, right??), and he asked me when I was making dinner. So I stood up to make it. He followed me into the kitchen, asking me if I needed help. I politely declined. You see...[can i pause for moment? i fucking HATE typing on this laptop. my browser will do all kinds of random things that my fingers do not ask it to do. it's stupid.]...Fiance and Ex-Husband (Surprise, I'm divorced!! Unless you've been following me from the beginning...then it's not a surprise. Carry on.) have one tiny little thing in common...they like to fucking LURK in the kitchen while Yours Truly is cooking. Why?? Because in their eyes, my cooking expertise is lacking. Now, Fiance tolerates what I make for dinner most of the time. But when it comes to chicken spaghetti?? Adult supervision is required.

So even though I had politely declined his assistance, he ignored me and began pulling out pots and pans, and informed me that HE would be cooking. Oh, but I am allowed, in fact I am REQUIRED, to prepare the noodles. Thanks for the vote of confidence.

Also, he never bothers tasting the food first, he just immediately grabs the Cavender's Greek Seasoning, dumps a bunch on, and then digs in. Did I mention he was walking around telling his family that I'm a terrible cook when we were in New York last December??

Gotta run...I have noodles to boil.