In which I whine like a child myself.

Two days after Christmas, The Husband and I found ourselves out and about, shopping running important errands.

On Christmas day, I cooked. A lot. What does this mean? Leftovers. We have a ton of them. And since I’ve quit eating for good this time (she says after consuming her eleventh oatmeal cookie), it’s up to The Husband to finish what’s left before it goes bad.

So, again, it’s two days after Christmas and we’re sitting in the car, on our way home.

“I think I want to order pizza tonight,” he says to me. Randomly.

“Huh? Pizza? But we have tons of leftovers at home.”

“But I’m not in the mood for those right now.”

Okay, let me just stop here. You’re not IN THE MOOD? Well, what are you in the mood for, buddy? Are you in the mood to flush all our money down the drain? The money we spent on the perfectly good and delicious food that is sitting in the refrigerator just waiting for some nice man to come along and pop it in the microwave for a toasty two-minute spin?

Because here’s how I see this playing out. You order a $20 pizza. You have a few slices and put the rest in the fridge (MORE LEFTOVERS). Now, the next time you’re hungry, what are you going to choose? The leftover Christmas dinner? Or the pizza? The pizza, of course. It requires less work which means you can get back to your football, poker, whatever that much faster. (Which is the ultimate goal here, right?)

So, now you’re eating pizza and the Christmas dinner is slowly going bad and crying a soggy mess in the stuffing. Before you know it, I’ll have to throw out said leftovers and then you’ll stand there frowning at me like you do every time you watch me throw away what was once perfectly edible and tasty food.

Then I’ll get laid off. We won’t have any more money OR FOOD or internet access for that matter. We’ll have to sell your precious TV on which you’re able to watch every game available and then you’ll wish you had a plate of leftover green bean casserole.

Of course, when I say “no” to pizza, what do I get in return?

“Don’t treat me like a child.”

Well, STOP ACTING LIKE ONE THEN.

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4 Responses to In which I whine like a child myself.

  1. Just found your site. Your Husband sounds like mine….and I hate to throw out food. It is so wasteful.

  2. Gayle says:

    That happens in my house, too. Although my family is much more willing to eat the leftovers for lunch than for dinner. I don't know why, but at least the food doesn't go to waste as much!

  3. Violet says:

    At the risk of repeating myself…boys are stupid.*snort*

  4. rory says:

    Ya know.Pizza is one of the elemental manfoods upon which our survival depends. Like air. Like beer. So sad and yet, tragically, so true.I wish we were better people, but we're not.

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