Because we are slowly becoming old people, and because we get up at 4am every day, Rick and I tend to eat dinner on the slightly earlier side.
Which means right around 7ish, we start feeling like it’s snack o clock. I’d decided to snuggle into my spot with a corgi and some chainmail while Rick worked on BD1 (if you know, you know) lego set.
Rick got up and wandered into the kitchen, and this is an approximation of what happened next.
Me- you got the munchies?
Rick, staring into the depths of the fridge- Yeaaaahhh.. can’t decide what I want though. Are you munchy too?
Me- (noncommittal that boils down to we’ll see what you find).
Rick- well, I’m not sure I want frozen pizza
Me- I’m sure I don’t want frozen pizza. I definitely don’t want anything sweet. Let me know what you find.
Rick- (points out I’m not very helpful)
Me- I wasn’t TRYING to be helpful. I just know I don’t want frozen pizza. A quesadilla does sound pretty good though.
Rick- then you’re either making it or ordering it.
Me- Why is it always my problem to deal with food?
Rick- (points to self) Laundry. (points to me) Food. That’s how this works.
Me- What the fuck? Why is it I have to deal with food two to three times a day and you only do laundry….. oh.
Rick- Exactly!
Me- I screwed myself over on this one.
Rick, exits kitchen, laughing.
I haven’t ordered shit. Screw him. I’m getting the short end of the stick here, cause he only does laundry once a week!
Curiouser and Curiouser 