Dinner was bad tonight. Like really bad. We all just stared at it. Until Bun started snarfing it down and asking for more. Then we all just stared at her.
Tay: "CJ, it's a good thing you didn't even try yours. It's so bad that you would have barfed out of your eyeballs."
Like I said, really bad. I didn't feel too bad about it. I tried something new and it didn't work. It actually made me happy that I finally outdid my epic fail of 2003. I had made a roast for our first married meal together and it turned out like leather. Tonight's cilantro and lime swai nuggets were much worse. Nuggets must be the code word for "this-is-really-just-a-bunch-of-blubber-with-a-tiny-sliver-of-fish-on-the-bottom." Just not appetizing if you have to scrape away blobs of goop to get to a teeny bit of meat.
So, Tay put in a quick call to lil' greasers. (Always the same thing: pepperoni hot 'n ready with cheese only on half.) He even let me go pick it up. When I got home....
Tay: "Oh good! They made it. I wasn't sure if they were going to make the pizza or not."
Me: "What? Why wouldn't they? You called them, right?"
Tay: "Ya, but I talked in a really bad English accent. It sounded like a joke and I would have stopped but then they'd really think it was a joke. That's why I had you go pick it up. Too embarrassing for me to have to continue that accent in person."
Nice.
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