He is my husband. The love of my life. And the cook of our house.
This is Bradley.
Jeremy had a lot to do with Bradley's existence... You'd think this would help me. It does not. It just makes me wonder...
Thursdays are my long days. I have work and then class. I take snacks to carry me and Bradley through. I eat extra protein. But by the time I get out of class, Bradley usually has resorted to eating a rib. This is what happened last night.
I come home and tell our house chef that Bradley needs to eat. He responds that he fell asleep; dinner still has a while. I stare. I scratch my head. I ask why.
This is what time it was.
This is what the timer said
Jeremy then said it was actually longer than that. I ask why again. I swore we had leftovers. I swore we had quick frozen dinners. I swore there are a thousand restaurants within a 15 mile radius of our house. I ask why.
He responds with he fell asleep. He was sorry.
So apparently when my husband, whom I love very much, wakes up at 7:30 p.m. and realizes he has to feed his growing family, he decides to cook this
And again I ask why. No, seriously. Why?