Thursday night

This is Jeremy.

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

Like this:

And again I ask why. No, seriously. Why?