Sometimes it is difficult to remove a foot.
On Wednesday night, Dudette made some baked chicken. It was very yummy. I meant to take out the trash that night because of all the normal gunk you get while making a chicken dinner: skin, packaging, left over nasty from the actual cooking process, and of course the bones and such. And, of course, I forgot.
On the way home from work Thursday, I remembered the trash. I could only imagine what the thrash can and the rest of the house might smell like when I got there. Stepping through the door, the scent of strong cooked food hit me.
Oh, MAN! This is way worse than I thought it might have been. It will take HOURS to air out the house.
It took a second or two to hit me that what I was smelling wasn't fowl (or foul) at all. It was meat. Stepping into the kitchen, the crock pot greeted me. Dudette had come home and taken out the trash during her lunch and started the crock pot to make brisket for BBQ for dinner. THAT explained the heavy scent in the house. And it smelled GOOD.
When Dudette got home, I told her about the entire incident. I thought it was funny.
She looked at me. And very slowly said, "So. My cooking smells like garbage. Thanks. What are you having for dinner tonight?"
The look on my face must have been worth it. But for the rest of the night, I kept getting reminded about my apparent sense of taste.
Okay. I deserved that. And for what it's worth, the BBQ brisket tasted a LOT better than my shoe did.
Bad timing happens.
Oooops..... You're lucky you got to taste the BBQ.
Posted by: buffy | February 11, 2007 at 07:29 PM
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Posted by: janet | February 17, 2007 at 08:51 PM